The Key
by Merlin7 M.N. Talbert
Summary: Sheppard undergoes drastic changes, and must face a foe with the fate of the Pegasus Galaxy in his hands...complete
1. Chapter 1

The Key

_Written By Shelly and M.N. Talbert_

Author's notes: This is set right after the events in The Siege part three, however it does not contain any spoilers for season two. It is set before General O'Neill leaves the SGC, and before the new character, Ronan Dex, joins Major Sheppard's team – and also, before he assumes the new rank of Lieutenant Colonel. We handled the Ford issue a slightly different way, and some small aspects diverge from spoilers given about The Siege part three, so this story should be considered alternate universe.

This story is a collaboration between Shelly and myself, and written for the sole purpose of entertainment. While we borrowed the Atlantis characters, Avitus is our own creation.

As always, this fiction was generated in our ping-pong style. We'd write a part, and send it off to the other to write the next, and so on until the story was completed. We hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed the writing!

Prologue 

"General O'Neill?"

Jack looked up from the report he was typing on his laptop; his fingers stilled on the keys, and saw Sergeant Harriman leaning in his open doorway. The gate technician's cropped white hair and eyeglass clad face stared back at him expectantly. It was one of the only constants that Jack could depend upon in his life at the SGC, Stargate Command, one of the world's greatest secrets in modern time.

"Sergeant," Jack acknowledged, signaling the subordinate that he was clear to say what he needed to say.

"All the off-world teams have checked in for the night, Sir," Harriman informed him, stepping more into the open office.

"Excellent," Jack drawled.

Harriman stood awkwardly. O'Neill stared at him, waiting. Finally, "Was there something else?" he prodded.

Harriman cleared his throat. "No, Sir."

"Then go," Jack made a sweeping motion with his hand, "diagnose, scan, watch  do whatever it is you do."

"Yes, Sir." Harriman turned self-consciously, and headed back towards his station.

Jack sighed. After all these years, Walter still had that awkward air about him. He was a good man, but sometimes you'd think he was a guilty kid, always trying to slink under the parent's radar. Radar…now there was a good nickname for Harriman. He'd have to tell that one to Daniel.

Speaking of Daniel, Jack looked at the clock on the wall, surprised to see it was after seven. Getting late - he could probably finish the report tomorrow. He should find Daniel, maybe get some dinner, and maybe find Carter and Teal'c. They hadn't had dinner together in months. Seems like something was always coming up anymore.

O'Neill wandered down to Daniel's lab, figuring if he was anywhere, it was there. Probably poring over the latest translation, or text, or artifact de jour of the week. He noticed a soft glow casting into the hall from Daniel's cracked door. That was a good sign. He pushed it open, slow in case someone was behind. He'd made that mistake once, propelling it inward, and had sent Daniel flying into a shelf of pots. It'd taken days for the dark glares to vanish. Of course, that'd been back when they had those arm bands on, and a small shove was almost incapacitating.

"Watcha doing?" he asked congenially, smiling at the figure hunched on the stool, examining some old dusty book.

Daniel Jackson, resident archeologist, descended being, and O'Neill's best friend, grinned with excitement, "Jack, you've got to read this!"

Jack regarded Daniel with a stone-faced stare.

"Right," Daniel grabbed the book, and twisted on the stool so he could show O'Neill. "It's Ancient, Dixon found it on PX7-893, and it talks about the Lost City of the Ancients."

"And  ?" Jack asked. Daniel had already solved the puzzle of Atlantis, and the expedition had gated to the Pegasus galaxy over a year ago, settling in the Lost City, and had recently fought off an enemy attack from a race of beings that made him thankful they'd only had to deal with the Goa'uld, _only_, that was funny. Never thought he'd say that before.

"Do you remember that head hugger thing?"

"Oh yes," Jack said. "Vividly."

"Well it says here that the city itself interfaces with the user, and if I'm reading this right, it works sort of like a mini head hugger." Daniel watched Jack expectantly.

"And your point is " Jack didn't get what Daniel was trying to say, but that wasn't anything new. Daniel had this ability to prattle on about texts and translations, and the only thing Jack ever picked up was his friend's unfounded faith in Jack's ability to follow his explanations. Of course, there were a few times where Daniel had slipped, and let Jack know that he knew O'Neill was phasing out most of what he said.

"Jack, with the right genetic conditions, the city could basically recreate an Ancient, it'll essentially _write in_ the knowledge," Daniel explained in a thrilled rush. He was wired on caffeine, and the high of discovery.

Jack raised an eyebrow, but appeared unmoved by this development. "Again, I ask, your point?"

Daniel shook his head impatiently, and set the text on the countertop, sliding off the stool and reaching for his green issue jacket. "If any of the members on that expedition team has enough of the genetic requirements, they could be getting a lot more than they bargained for, and so could we, if it happens."

Now that Jack got. "I thought Thor said we weren't _evolved_ enough."

"Yeah, he did, but there was one member of that team who used the Ancients chair without even trying," Daniel reminded him. "And Thor hasn't met him."

Jack remembered. Major John Sheppard. Flyboy, and a cocky kid, but Weir wanted him despite his own misgivings. "Will it kill him?"

Daniel sobered. "I don't know. Maybe, maybe not."

_Damn. _Jack knew what it felt like to have the Ancients knowledge taking over, rewriting your brain, and falling into a downward spiral, losing the ability to talk, and understand his own people. He stared at Daniel, but he wasn't seeing him. He was thinking about that young, brash, annoying officer, who might at this very moment, be falling to the insanity of the Ancients knowledge, a painful reality he'd experienced twice. "For his sake, I hope to hell not."

Chapter One 

It had been a month since they had survived the Wraith attack. They had come through it, mostly intact. At least, Atlantis herself had. There had been losses, and changes, and not all of them in the expected way. Those were the thoughts on John's mind as he finished his shower, pulled on boxers and a tee shirt, then slid into bed.

Today had been one of those days when everyone seemed jumpy. He knew they were all still looking over their shoulders, waiting for a Wraith to appear in the corridor, or pop out from behind some console. Atlantis had been invaded. Their home had been infected, in a sense, and it was hard to accept that they were safe, because everyone knew that someday the Wraith would come back. John hoped it wouldn't be for another hundred years. That way, he wouldn't have to deal with them. They would be someone else's problem. Although, for now, they were still his.

Colonel Everett had died during the siege. Killed by a Wraith. John punched at his pillow, trying to make it comfortable, and as he did so he wondered, not for the first time, if Everett and Sumner had somehow hooked up in the afterlife and were comparing notes on him. The thought of that kind of creeped John out. Heaving a sigh, he _thought_ off the lights, and closed his eyes. He was so damn tired. The kind of tired that seemed to seep into your bones, so that no matter what you did, you couldn't seem to shake it. Not that he was sleeping so great anyway. Too much too do to clean things up, and work towards trying to get back to normal. And, too many thoughts and dreams, sometimes nightmares, even when he found the time to sleep.

Shifting onto his stomach, John wrapped his arms around the pillow. He wanted to sleep. He tried to focus on the positive things, even the changes that were unsettling at times. Weir was still in charge of Atlantis, and that was a good thing. He was still ranking military officer, although sometimes John was pretty sure that wasn't a good thing. For Atlantis. But he rolled his shoulders and curled onto his side, as if trying to shrug off that particular feeling.

Sergeant Bates had survived. John almost envied him. He had been in a medically induced coma from a beating by a Wraith, and had pretty much missed the entire siege. But it was good to have him back again, although only for light duty at the moment. Good, because Ford was gone now, and that was one of the changes that was hard to get used to, as well.

Once the battle had been won, and what was left of the Wraith had turned tail and run, things had settled down a bit. News from Earth had trickled through to them, and Ford had learned that his grandfather was dying. Ford had been raised by his grandparents, and he'd asked to be allowed to return home to help his grandmother get through this rough time. Of course they had let him go. It was all about Family. Being a part of Atlantis had taught John that, if nothing else.

Rolling onto his back, John gave up on the pretense of sleeping. He knew he wouldn't be able to shut down his mind enough to drift into sleep. So he got up, got dressed and headed out. There was always work to be done. And having survived his own suicide mission, John was aware of just how precious time was. To them all. Atlantis had survived again. This time. And John was determined to make sure she would never fall. Not on his watch, anyway. So he headed out of his room to face another day. Ignoring the throbbing ache in his temples, and the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

oOo

The mission to Meenos had been a success. John and his team stepped back through the gate, onto Atlantis, bearing bins of Kello beans. Rodney was just about drooling. Kello beans were the equivalent of coffee beans on Earth, with a bigger kick. Like a quadruple espresso. The negotiations had gone smoothly, no one had gotten hurt, and they hadn't faced anything more dangerous than an over stimulated McKay staggering into Sheppard hard enough to knock them both down.

Yet for all that, John was angry. Pissed off angry. He could feel it like a burning ember sparking deep inside him. Sparking into a full blown rage. He had to bite his tongue not to snap Private Lewis's head off. And the only reason John felt like snapping at him in the first place was because the kid wasn't Ford. John missed Ford. They had never really become _friends_ so to speak, but John had known he could trust Ford to watch his six. Lewis meant well, but he was too damn green. And he was, obviously, intimidated by John. Which was annoying as hell. If there was one thing John hated, it was hero worship. Because he was anything but a hero.

At the moment, he was nothing more than a snarly bastard in a surly mood. And fighting to keep his anger in check was giving John the mother of all headaches.

So, of course, Weir chose this moment to invite him into her office to debrief. John had hoped to make it to his room for a shower first. Hoping that some ice cold water might cool him off in more ways than one. His mood was such, that, at the moment, he couldn't even stand himself. But he followed Weir up the stairs, closing the door behind them at her request.

Elizabeth sat down behind her desk and smiled at him. "Good work, Major. Seems like you're getting the hang of negotiating."

"Guess I'm trainable after all," John snapped, and he winced the moment the words left his mouth. He knew he should apologize, but he didn't. He was afraid of opening his mouth again.

"That's not what I meant." Elizabeth was frowning at him. "John...are you all right? Did something happen?"

He shook his head, then scrubbed a hand over his face. A deep breath or two and he was able to reply, softly. "Nothing happened. We got Kello beans and we came home. Are we done?"

She narrowed her gaze as she studied him for a moment, then she nodded. "Beckett is waiting on you for your post exam."

"I know."

John headed for the door. He wanted to blow off the infirmary, but he knew that post mission exams were non negotiable. And for good reason. So he stepped into the nearest transporter, and let himself sag against the wall for a moment.

He knew what his problem was. He was so damn tired. Still. The latest dream to haunt him involved Chaya. John still missed her. Sometimes. In the dream, they were sharing again, enveloped by the soft, glowing, light that had bonded them for what seemed like eternity, and yet had only been the blink of an eye. In his dream that moment faded away, and John would find himself in the Jumper, flying towards the Wraith ship into certain death. But before they connected, a flash of light blinded him, and the next thing John knew, he was on the second Wraith ship and Teyla was there. 

All of which had actually happened. He had somehow ended up on the Wraith Ship, where Teyla had been taken. They had fought a few Wraith, one of whom had been about to suck the life out of him, when he had just let John go, rising and walking away from him without looking back. Which had been freaky in itself. Then, he and Teyla had stolen a Dart and had returned to Atlantis to continue fighting.

Rodney believed a Wraith transporter beam had scooped John off the Jumper, and onto the second Wraith ship. John figured that made sense. But then his dream would shift again, leaving reality behind. And Bob would make an appearance. Bleeding from all the bullet holes John had put in him, yet very much alive and gloating. Gloating because he had John pinned, and was feeding on him. Only John never died. Instead he turned into a Wraith himself, and what woke him up in a cold sweat was the moment his Wraith self went on a killing spree, slaughtering everyone in Atlantis.

The Transporter doors slid open, and John stepped out. He headed for the infirmary more on instinct than anything else, since he was preoccupied by his thoughts. So John didn't see McKay rounding the corner until he slammed into him. Literally.

"There you are," Rodney stated. "Took you long enough to get here."

"And that's your concern, why?" John snapped. And regretted it. He watched Rodney's eyes go wide with surprise. "Sorry," John muttered.

Rodney shrugged it off. This time. "Fine. I need you stop by the lab when you're done here."

John was not happy to hear that. He wanted to shower and sleep, not hang around with Rodney. John wanted to be alone with his miserable self. So he glared at Rodney and demanded, "Why?"

"I have a theory on why you ended up on the second Wraith ship," Rodney announced, and he practically bounced with excitement. "It hit me while Beckett was doing his thing. I can't remember what he said, he was rambling on, and I seldom actually listen to him. But something he said reminded me of something, and I'm sure I'm on the right track."

"You told me it was a Wraith beam," John reminded him. 

Rodney frowned at him. "I know what I said. Now I'm saying it was something else. I'm going to run it by Zalenka. So, come by when you're done." Rodney finished in a rush then he was almost running off down the hallway.

John watched him go then heaved a sigh. He was intrigued enough to know he would do as Rodney said and stop by the lab. But right now he had to get through his exam. So, John continued on his way, walking into the infirmary just a few minutes later to find Beckett waiting for him.

"Sit right here, major," Beckett invited, patting the exam table he was standing by.

"This won't take long, right?" John prompted, as he hopped up as ordered.

Beckett smiled at him. "Just a few minutes. As always. Unless something's wrong?" He made it a question.

John shook his head, which made his temples throb harder, but he sucked it up. "I'm good." He fell silent as Beckett listened to his heart and lungs. He remained quiet when his pulse and blood pressure were taken, but when Beckett made to shine the light in his eyes, instinct made John slap the hand away.

"Light sensitive," Beckett muttered. "Headache?"

"Just a little one." John knew he was caught, so lying outright wasn't an option. But half-truths usually worked pretty well.

Beckett studied him, a thoughtful expression on his face. "You look tired."

John arched an eyebrow at him then patiently replied, "It's been a long day." Keeping his voice soft and low wasn't easy. And it made his head hurt more.

"You're a bit pale too. And probably dehydrated. And, you're definitely still losing weight." Beckett was scribbling on his clipboard. Without looking up he said, "Why don't you lie back, major, and I'll run fluids into you. You'll feel much better."

"No." The word was sharp, and John had to force himself not to say more as he slid off the table.

Carson looked surprised.

John cut off whatever he was about to say with the wave of one hand. "Quit fussing! I'm fine!" That said, he turned smartly on his heel and strode off. He was relieved when no one followed him. He headed for his room and took his shower, a nice, long, hot shower. After which, John got dressed. He was tired, but he knew he wasn't ready to sleep. Besides, Rodney would be waiting for him. After tying on his boots, John left his room and made his way to McKay's lab.

He hadn't gone far when he ran into Teyla.

She smiled at him. "I was coming to find you, Major," she said softly. "I wanted to ask if you would like to work out tomorrow morning?"

"Very much," John replied. And he meant it. He enjoyed his practice sessions with Teyla. She could still kick his ass, but he was getting better. And they had moved from stick fighting to staff fighting, which John found to be even more challenging. "What time?"

"Sunrise?"

He smiled and felt a bit less tense. "I'll be there."

Teyla nodded. "Have you eaten yet?"

"No…but I promised McKay I'd meet him in his lab." John was half tempted to blow Rodney off, but his curiosity was piqued.

"Perhaps another time," Teyla stated. Then she nodded to him and continued on her way.

John made himself proceed to the lab. When he got there, Rodney was deep in conversation with Zalenka. John had to clear his throat, loudly, before they noticed him.

Rodney jumped up and was smiling. "It was the jumper. Well…you and the jumper. Or, mostly you. Whatever. We'll have to test the theory anyway."

"Whoa…what are you talking about?" John frowned at Rodney as his curiosity turned to confusion.

"I vill try to explain," Zalenka interjected.

Rodney cut him off. "It's my theory, so I'll explain it." He shouldered Zalenka behind him. "Remember when the other Weir told the story of how you, her, and Zalenka tried to escape the flooding in one of the jumpers?"

John nodded. "I remember."

"And the bay doors weren't open yet, with time running out, and you thought about getting out of there, then _boom_, you were suddenly out in space?"

"Yeees," John drawled. "So?"

Rodney rocked back and forth on his heels, excitement practically glowing in his eyes. "The jumper back then read your...thoughts…and transported you out of Atlantis. I believe that's exactly what happened when you were making your…uh...suicide run." Rodney stumbled over the word _suicide_.

John felt as if Rodney had sucker punched him in the gut. The weird thing being, he couldn't explain why. But he felt his headache returning full force. Even so, he shook his head. "No. You're wrong."

"I'm not wrong!" Rodney looked offended.

"Yes…you are!" John was shouting now. And he was leaving. Or trying. Rodney was suddenly in front of him, looking pissed. "Move!" John growled the word, and added a threatening glare for good measure.

Rodney didn't budge. "What the hell is your problem, Major?"

John smirked. "You are." He knew the barb hit home when Rodney flinched. John felt a twinge of guilt, but squashed it. He stepped around Rodney, and almost made it to the door when McKay called after him.

"I need you to touch a few things!"

"You have the goddamn gene!" John snarled. "Touch them yourself." And with that, he stormed out. He didn't break stride until he reached his room, and by then he was no longer pissed at Rodney. He was pissed at himself for being pissed at Rodney.

"You're such an asshole, John," he muttered to himself, as he dropped down onto his bed. He knew if he got a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, he would feel better. Much better. So John closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep. But he should have known he would regret it.

This time he dreamed about Chaya. About sharing each other. She let him see who she really was and she asked him to come with her. To join with her for all eternity. And John was tempted to go, only a voice in his head gave him pause when it whispered,

_"Don't go into the light...don't go into the light...don't go into the light..."_

Choking on a cry, John came awake abruptly, body shuddering, skin slicked in a cold sweat. "Stupid fucking movie!" he hissed, as he scrubbed a hand over his face. The other night they had introduced Teyla to Poltergeist. She had found it amusing. But even as John slid off the bed and headed for the bathroom, he knew it wasn't the movie that was haunting him. It was what he saw when he had connected with Chaya. Or Athar. The name really didn't matter to him. But the memory of what they had shared lingered with John.

It didn't wash away with the soap he lathered up with, and it didn't fade as he got dressed. What shook him the most was the fact that he didn't remember anything specific. What he remembered was how he had felt at the time. It wasn't anything definitive. He couldn't give it a name. But it lingered with him, like a cold chill he couldn't shake. Not even after he settled back on the bed with a blanket, War and Peace in hand. It was only two am. John figured he would read until it was time to meet with Teyla. But three hours later he was still on the same page.

oOo

He couldn't focus and it showed as he hit the mat for the fourth time in a row. John cursed, then ignored the hand that Teyla held out to him. He got to his feet on his own, raised his staff, then snarled, "Again!"

But Teyla shook her head at him. "I think not, Major. You are not...on your game." She moved to the window seat and set aside her staff. "You are tired, did you not sleep well?"

"I slept fine." It was a blatant lie and John winced as he told it. He avoided Teyla's gaze. She was too good at seeing right through him. John dropped his staff then rummaged in his gym bag for his water bottle. He felt hot and thirsty and worn out.

"You are troubled," Teyla countered, softly.

John drained the water bottle, recapped it, then tossed it in his bag before grabbing his towel and wiping his face. He was still thirsty and he felt a little shaky. He hoped it didn't show. So he forced a smile as he turned to face Teyla. "I'm fine." Wow, he was really wracking up the lies today. And it was still early.

Teyla was not fooled by his words. She moved to Sheppard's side and touched his arm. "Perhaps you should talk to Heightmeyer," she suggested.

"I don't need a shrink!" John snapped, and he hadn't meant it to come out that sharp. "Sorry."

"You suggested the same thing for me when I could not sleep," Teyla gently reminded him. And it was clear she did not take offense at his anger.

John sighed and bit his tongue. He was tired and on edge and he did not want to take it out on Teyla. He knew she was only trying to help him. "Look...that was different," John countered.

Teyla frowned at him. "Why?"

"It just was!" John was snapping again and this time he didn't care. He grabbed his gear and shouldered past Teyla, heading for the door. But he hadn't gone three steps when everything faded to black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Major Sheppard!" shouted Teyla, kneeling beside his prone figure. She checked the basics like Doctor Beckett had taught her. Breathing, pulse, it was all there. She dug the radio out of her bag, and slipped it over her ear, tapping it with speed. "I need a medical team to the gymnasium, Major Sheppard is unconscious!"

She could see dark circles under his eyes, and a gaunt, tired look to his face, even relaxed in unconsciousness as it was now. She knew he hadn't been sleeping well. She shouldn't have let him work out today, but she had thought that maybe it would give him a chance to ease whatever was eating at him. She had been wrong, and now the major was paying for it.

It didn't take long for the medical team, accompanied by Beckett, to arrive. "What happened?" asked Carson, sliding into his efficient Doctor mode, and beginning to check Sheppard's vitals.

"We had a training session, but he was struggling, he seemed tired. I suggested we stop for the day, and when he left, he collapsed." Teyla reeled off a short summary of the events without going into detail.

Carson nodded, and waved for the techs to get John on a gurney. He stood up, and placed a soft hand on Teyla's arm, "He's going to be fine, Teyla. He's just run down," he assured the Athosian.

Teyla nodded mutely, and watched as they hurried him to the infirmary. She wished she could believe it, but in her heart, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong with the major.

oOo

John was dreaming, of voices, and whispers in his mind, but he couldn't understand what they were saying. He tried to call out, but found he couldn't speak. He felt as though he were tangled in a mass of dead vines, being pulled into a deep morass, and never again to see the light of day.

"Major?"

That voice…he knew that voice. He latched on like a drowning man, and reached out, his hand automatically finding his anchor. He opened his eyes, and looked upon Elizabeth Weir, holding him steady.

She brushed a lock of hair out of his eyes, tenderly. "You passed out, after a session with Teyla, Major," she said. "Gave her quite a scare."

John looked down at her hand in his, surprised at her familiarity. "Elizabeth?" he whispered.

"Yes, John?" she asked earnestly.

He rolled his head slightly to the side, and murmured, "This isn't real." And he let his eyes close –

oOo

"Major, wake up, son…it's time."

John groaned, _Beckett_. He obeyed, and looked around, and didn't see Weir nearby. "How long?" grunted Sheppard.

Beckett frowned. "A few hours. You gave Teyla quite a scare."

He remembered waking and seeing Elizabeth, but he knew it wasn't a real memory. "Elizabeth…here?" he asked, wanting to find out for certain.

Carson shook his head slowly. "No…do you need her?"

"No!" he said more forcefully then he intended. "Was she here, at all?"

Now Beckett was staring at him with concern. "Son, you just woke up, no one's been here except me."

Sheppard wished he'd been subtler. Now Carson was acting like he was in an even more fragile state than he felt. He had just wanted to make sure…his mind was foggy. "A dream," he uttered.

That seemed to reassure Beckett, and he pulled up his rolling stool. "Major, we need to talk."

John fought back a thrill of apprehension. He wanted out of here, now, and he didn't want to talk. Some of his anxiety must have translated into his body language because Carson frowned even deeper, the lines of his mouth becoming prominent.

"Um…later, I'm kind of tired," said Sheppard, stalling for time.

"No," Carson folded his arms across his chest. "How long do you think you can keep this up?"

"Keep what up?" he replied, obstinately. He wasn't stupid; he knew what Beckett was getting at. The problem was, he didn't think there was a problem, and Carson did. Headaches, tiredness…nothing he hadn't dealt with before. At the worried look that Beckett was sending his way, it wasn't going to be easy getting out of here.

"You're running yourself to the ground, and don't sit there and tell me you aren't having symptoms," reproached Beckett. "I've seen the medicine logs. You've signed out Tylenol at least four times in the past week, all during my off-shifts, I might add."

"You're reaching for straws, Doc," said Sheppard with more gruffness than he intended. "It's just headaches."

Carson regarded John with a measured stare. "Okay, then, you won't mind if I run some tests…just to make sure."

Sheppard did mind, but on the other hand - "You'll let me go, if they come back fine?" And there wasn't any doubt in his mind, at least, that the tests would be normal.

Beckett nodded, and stood, tucking Sheppard's chart under his arm. "Aye, but, regardless of the outcome, I'm prescribing more rest starting now. You can take a brief nap while we prepare the tests."

Over all, Sheppard figured he'd come out of this better than he had hoped. He agreed, and tried to close his eyes, but sleep wouldn't come. He thought of all the things in the city that needed his attention, rooms that hadn't been explored. What if they found another body in stasis? What if the person had died because they took too long to find them, like Doctor Weir's alternate self had almost done.

And there was this constant itch in his mind, like a thought chasing after you to realize that you were forgetting something, but you couldn't remember what. It was keeping him unbalanced, always seeking something that he couldn't figure out. Was there something he kept forgetting? Why did it constantly feel like he was missing…something.

"When I said rest, I meant sleep," Beckett spoke beside him.

John's eyes flew open. He hadn't heard Carson approaching his bed. He lifted his wrist; it'd been over an hour. "I did," argued Sheppard. If he'd lost an hour to his thoughts, with his eyes closed, close enough to sleep for his definition.

Beckett snorted. "Major, lying in bed with your eyes closed, but thinking of everything you should be doing, is not sleeping. Sleeping is eyes closed, and dreaming up the pretty lass you met last week."

Sheppard was about to argue, but realized it was a lost cause, and besides, he hadn't met a pretty girl last week. He figured it'd be kind of petty to point that out. "Tests, Doc?" he reminded, at least getting it over with would get him a 'get out of infirmary' free card.

"About that," frowned Beckett. "Our equipment's malfunctioning, I'm going to have to keep you here over night…" At seeing Sheppard's shocked expression, he couldn't stop the chuckle. "Just kidding, we'll get started then, shall we?"

"Yes, we shall," Sheppard said grumpily. And if he thought he was grouchy, the size of the needle the nurse was approaching him made his day even worse.

oOo

"Major, there you are!" McKay jogged up to John's side, as he was heading towards the mess hall.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow, "I'm going somewhere, McKay." John tried to head off Rodney's attempt at dragging him to work on some other project, remembering their last parting. As rude as Sheppard had been before, he was surprised McKay had been looking for him. He'd thought the guy would've been hiding in his lab, nursing his bruised ego. But then, he should've realized, this was McKay, after all. You can't bruise his ego.

"Right, you are," deadpanned McKay, without a pause. "Back to my lab."

Sheppard rounded on McKay. "I'm going to eat," he inclined his head irritably. "Doctor's orders." The sarcasm wasn't lost on either of them.

"What's with you? All of a sudden you're walking around like you've got a stick up your…"

Sheppard raised a finger. "Don't say it."

"Ass," finished McKay with a gleam of satisfaction.

John pasted on a sick smile. "That'll get you zero gene usage points." And he turned, heading back on his initial course. He knew he was being an uncooperative jerk, but McKay was grating on his last nerve, along with everyone else, and he didn't even know why, so how could he fix it, short of go into avoidance mode?

Fortunately, or what would turn out to be unfortunately, Beckett came striding up, interrupting the two from getting into it further. "Major, I need to see you."

It was about this time, that Sheppard had had enough. "No," he answered succinctly, and kept walking, leaving behind a stunned Beckett and McKay in his wake.

He went into the mess hall, and collected whatever the dinner was supposed to be, and sat down, pointedly ignoring the fact that McKay and Beckett had tailed him in, gathered their own food, and sat down beside him. He made eye contact, poking a straw in his drink box, and took a long, slow sip, while making it clear that he wanted to be left alone.

Rodney decided to go with the spirit of the situation, and leaned towards Carson. "He can be a tad on the childish side, can't he?"

Carson grinned. "Aye, and you should see him when nurse…"

"Enough!" interrupted Sheppard. He sat his drink down with false care. "Do you two have a point, or is it 'torture Major Sheppard' day, and someone forgot to send me the memo?"

Beckett shrugged. "I have a point, but I can't speak for Rodney…do ye have a point, Rodney?"

McKay had one of his best 'smug am I' grins plastered on his face. "I have a point, I always have a point. What about you, Carson, is it a good point, or only a not-so-good point?"

Sheppard was practically shaking with the effort required to maintain a civilized manner. "Then make it, and leave me the hell alone."

McKay dropped the smugness. "I need you to help me with this console I found. It's important, and it won't work for me. There…is that clear enough for you, or should I send you a memo?"

Sheppard glared at McKay, but waited for Beckett to speak up, before deciding how rude his reply would be. Carson squirmed a bit now that the focus was on him. "Actually, Major, this is more of a private conversation, if you don't mind."

McKay spluttered his juice. "Private? Hello, it's me, the one who saved his ass every time he turned around. I think I've got a right to hear anything he has to hear."

Sheppard was feeling a bit like one of those moles in the whac-a-mole game, because between McKay and Beckett, he kept getting knocked around. "Anything you've got to say, can be said in front of McKay."

Rodney had a gleam of satisfaction, "Thank you, Major."

"Don't be flattered, it's a small world, I'm saving you the hassle of waiting, oh, the ten minutes till the rumor mill disseminates the information."

Beckett still appeared uncomfortable, but began to speak, only to be interrupted by Doctor Weir's arrival. She smiled warmly at the trio. "John, it's good to see you eating," she enthused.

Sheppard counted to ten. "And it's good to see you…not eating," he replied. All he needed now was for Teyla and Ford to show up and carry on about his choice of beef.

Weir failed to notice the panicked looks that Beckett was sending her, so she plowed on, "The sooner you take care of yourself, the sooner you can be cleared for missions again." She looked like she'd delivered a boon to a guy on death row; but instead, she'd flipped the switch on the electric chair.

The room got quiet, and Sheppard froze. Weir looked at Beckett, who was sliding a hand back and forth across his neck, sign language for, big mistake. "Again?" asked Sheppard, and his voice was deathly calm.

Weir winced. "I'm sorry. I thought Carson had talked to you already," she was limping through this. "John, your test results came back showing signs of malnutrition, and sleep deprivation. I think you can agree that's not safe." Weir had foundered, but landed on her sea legs, because the bottom line was, John was in trouble, and everyone but him seemed to realize it.

Sheppard's emotions over the revelation had been quickly shuttered in, and he pushed his tray away, needing space. "I see. If you don't mind, then, I suppose I'll start working on getting back in shape." Though he'd tried to hide his anger, his words were thinly laced with the resentment and betrayal he felt.

It didn't help that Rodney was looking at him in shock, clearly being as surprised by the events as John. Beckett stood abruptly, knocking his tray forward, spilling the contents. "Major, if ye'd give me a moment, I can help…"

But John wasn't giving anyone ground right now, least of all Beckett, whom he blamed for the situation. "I think you've helped enough, Doctor," he said coldly, and left the room without a backward glance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

John was so angry about what had happened in the mess hall that he practically stomped his way to his room. Once there he realized he really was tired. Too tired to hold on to his anger. Heaving a sigh, he stretched out on his bed and closed his eyes. He wanted to sleep. But he drifted into a dream world. Into shadows and light. He shifted restlessly as soft voices whispered in his head and John tried to listen to them. He tried to make sense of what they were saying. He knew it was important somehow, but he couldn't hear them clearly enough. They would whisper at him then fade away, as if mocking him.

And then he saw Chaya. She came to him, offering to share with him again, and John accepted. Maybe she had the answers he sought. Answers to questions he didn't even know he had. But this time when she surrounded him in her light, it wasn't bright and warm and glowing. It was cold and dark, and John felt as if he were suffocating. He struggled to take in air, his fingers flexing hard into Chaya's flesh. He heard her laugh softly, and whisper that he did not need to breathe. To trust her. Then the whispers were back, but they welled up in his head, too many voices, too loud. They were screaming and he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't be…

With a strangled cry, John came awake. His skin was slick with a cold sweat; he could feel himself shaking, his heart racing and his head pounding. John buried his face in his hands, trying to calm his breathing, only to realize that the pounding wasn't only in his head. Someone was knocking on the door.

"Coming..." he croaked out, as he slid off the bed and stumbled to the door. He _thought_ it open and wasn't the least bit surprised to find Beckett standing there. John narrowed his eyes against the spill of light from the hallway, but he still managed to glare at the doctor. "I slept! Now leave me alone!"

John turned, meaning to walk away, but his knees buckled and his vision grayed for a moment, then he felt a strong hand gripping his arm, and the next thing he knew he was sitting on his bed. John rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the stubble against his palm. Then he closed his eyes as Beckett raised the lights. "Why won't you leave me alone?" John mumbled, not caring that he sounded like a petulant child.

"Hush," Carson chided, as he gripped Sheppard's wrist to take his pulse. When the major lifted his head to glare at him again, Carson studied him. He didn't miss the pale face or the sheen of cold sweat, and his finger twitched over the rapid pulse. "Bad dream?" he guessed.

"What was your first clue?" John snapped, then he sighed and apologized. "Sorry...guess Rodney is rubbing off on me."

Carson chuckled. "Yes...well...he has that effect on people. So, Major, do you want to talk about it?"

John shook his head, regretting it when his temples started throbbing. For a moment he had almost forgotten about the headache that seemed to plague him of late. "Nothing to talk about, doc. I don't even remember it." A blatant lie, but John was getting good at those, so he was pretty sure Beckett would buy it.

"All right." Carson let it slide, but his eyes still mirrored his concern. "I want to give you something to help you get a good nights sleep."

"No!" John practically snarled at Beckett.

Carson was neither impressed nor cowed. He rose from his crouched position and locked eyes with Sheppard. "Look, major...I'm trying to help you. And if you want to go back through the Gate any time soon, you'd best let me."

John wanted to argue with him. He wanted to scream his frustration at Carson. But he knew this situation was no ones fault but his own. The anger that had made him feel tense eased a bit as John sighed, then nodded. "Fine… do what you have to do," he allowed. Because, bottom line, he wanted back through the Gate.

"Thank you." Carson looked relieved. "Now…I want you take a nice hot shower to relax. I'll be back with some food and a shot. Once you get some real sleep, you'll feel much better."

"Yeah...I know." And John did know. He offered a lopsided smile. "I'm sorry I've been such a pain in the ass lately."

Carson chuckled. "No problem. You've had a lot to deal with since you came here, Major. None of us were prepared for what's happened, but at least everyone else knew about the Stargate project, so we had some idea of what we were getting in too. But you came into this without a clue. You've handled the pressure and the responsibility admirably. But it's catching up to you now, laddie."

John nodded. He knew he was stressed, and he knew he needed to deal with it. And maybe a good night's sleep would make the damn dreams fade away. He pushed up to his feet and was relieved when he didn't waver, but he noticed that Beckett looked poised to catch him if need be. "I'm okay...I'm gonna go shower now."

"Good. I'll be back soon," Carson promised, then he headed out the door.

John watched him go then headed for the bathroom. He stripped, stepped into the stall then _thought_ the water on. The heat seeped into his skin, chasing away the chill that had settled over him. He stayed there for a time, letting the heat also ease away the tension in his muscles. By the time he got out he felt almost groggy, but in a good way. After drying off, John got dressed in sweat pants and a tee shirt. He was toweling his hair dry when a knock sounded. Knowing it would be Beckett, John called out, "Come in!"

To his surprise, it was Teyla who entered, and she held a tray of food. "What are you doing here?" John asked.

"I ran into Doctor Beckett," Teyla replied. "He thought you might enjoy some company for dinner. He had to take care of something, but he wanted me to let you know that he would be back here by the time we finished eating. He said you would know what that meant."

"Yeah...I know." John rubbed the towel over his head one last time then tossed it in the corner. He then took the tray from Teyla and set it down on the small table that was kitty corner to his bed. "If you're willing to risk me snapping your head off for no good reason, then I'd love the company," John told her. And it was mostly the truth. He did enjoy Teyla's company. Most of the time.

Teyla smiled as she joined him at the table. "I will risk it," she allowed. Then she tilted her head as she studied him.

John frowned at her. "What?" He couldn't tell what she was staring at.

"So that is how you get your hair to do that," Teyla stated, gesturing at his head.

"Do what?" John countered, as he patted the top of his head, feeling the tufts against his palm. Then he realized that was what she meant and laughed.

Teyla arched an eyebrow at him. "Doctor McKay said that you used barrels of something called...gel?"

John arched his own eyebrow at that. "Did he now?" he drawled, but he wasn't offended. Rather he was amused. "I'll have to have a talk with Rodney later." That said, John pulled out a chair and gestured for Teyla to sit down. Then he joined her and they dug into the sandwiches that she had brought. Turkey sandwiches. It seemed that everyone knew what his favorite food was.

As they ate and chatted, John found himself beginning to relax. He couldn't rid himself of the anxiety that was like a hum beneath his skin, but he felt less jumpy that he had before. Less unsettled. He even managed to eat almost the entire sandwich, and was contemplating having a slice of Athosian sweet bread when Teyla mentioned McKay's theory about John transporting himself to the Wraith mother ship. At that moment John's appetite vanished and anger welled up inside him.

"Doctor McKay is very excited about what this might mean, Major. I would imagine that you are as well," Teyla was saying.

"You'd imagine wrong!" John snapped, as he shoved his chair back and rose to his feet. "McKay's theory is wrong. He's full of shit!" Feeling agitated again, John started pacing.

Teyla looked surprised by his behavior, and concerned. But she was also puzzled. "Full of shit?" she repeated.

John stopped pacing to glare at her. But then he shook his head and told himself to calm down. This wasn't Teyla's fault and he didn't need to bite her head off, even though he had warned her. Forcing himself to reply calmly, John said, "Never mind, Teyla. I just don't want to talk about this, okay?"

Before she could reply, a knock sounded. John stalked over to the door and palmed it open. No surprise to see Beckett standing there.

"Ready for your shot?" Carson asked, cheerily.

"Can't wait!" John didn't mean to growl at him, but he couldn't help himself.

Carson's smile faded. "What's wrong?"

Teyla replied before Sheppard could. "It is my fault," she said. "I upset him." She turned to the major. "I apologize."

"It's not your fault, Teyla." John made himself answer her softly. "I'm just tired."

"I will go now." She nodded at him, then Beckett, before slipping out the door.

Carson had entered the room during the exchange and now he was studying the tray on the table. He could guess which plate was the major's. "You need to eat more," he stated.

John turned on him. "Stop playing mother hen!" he snapped, and he was instantly sorry. Rubbing the vein that was throbbing in his temple, John mumbled an apology. "Sorry."

"I know." Carson pointed to the bed. "Get comfortable and I'll give you that shot." As he spoke he pulled a syringe out of his lab coat pocket and popped off the top.

"How long will I be out?" John asked, as he pulled back the covers and settled in. He wasn't thrilled at the idea of being out of the loop for too long a time. If something happened and he was needed, he wanted to be able to wake up and be functional.

Carson seemed to read his mind. "If something happens and you're needed, I'll be able to wake you. Otherwise you should be out for ten to twelve hours."

John winced. "That's a long time." He watched as Beckett pushed up his sleeve and swabbed his arm. Then the prick of the needle going in, and instantly John felt soothing warmth hit his blood stream.

"You need the sleep, Major. Just trust me on that one." Carson swabbed his arm again then he reached for the blankets, tugging them up over Sheppard, smoothing them a bit. "Now close your eyes and let yourself go, laddie."

John heard Carson as if from a distance. Already he could feel himself slipping into darkness.

oOo

He slept without dreaming. When John opened his eyes and peered, blearily, at his watch, it was to find that eight hours had passed. He threw back the covers and stumbled into the bathroom to relieve his bladder. Afterwards he splashed cold water on his face and as he reached for a towel, John realized he did feel better. But still a bit unsettled. Despite not dreaming, John hadn't awakened on his own. He had heard someone whispering his name.

Huffing out a sigh, John stripped and stepped into the shower. He kept the temperature cool and showered quickly. By the time he was finished he felt surprisingly alert. And hungry. So he dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, laced on some sneakers, then he headed for the mess hall. It was still breakfast time, so he grabbed what passed for eggs and managed to eat half of it before nausea forced him to throw the rest of it away. John figured the nausea was a side effect of the sedative. He'd had that happen once before in the past. Still, he risked a last sip of coffee before heading out to see Weir.

She was in her office and looked surprised to see him.

"Got a minute?" John asked.

"Sure." She gestured for him to enter. "I didn't think you'd be awake yet. Have you seen Beckett?"

John dropped into the nearest chair then shook his head. "No. Was I supposed too?"

Elizabeth leaned forward, resting her forearms on her desktop. "Just make sure you check in with him."

"Sure." John wasn't about to argue with her, not when he was hoping to sway her into letting him go back to work. "But...I feel better. A lot better."

"You do look better," Elizabeth allowed, as she studied him through lidded eyes.

John wasn't sure he liked the way she was looking at him. He felt a little bit as if he were under a microscope. But he plunged ahead anyway. "I was thinking, since I'm feeling so much better, maybe you could _un_-ground me?"

Elizabeth looked disappointed. "John...one night of sleep is not going to work miracles and you know that. You need time to heal."

"I'm not injured!" That came out sharper than he had intended, but he was getting tired of being treated as if he were some invalid. "Look...how about letting me take one of the jumpers to the mainland. McKay is always complaining about wanting to go on missions that aren't so dangerous, and we can scout out the northern section some more."

"They're already on a mission," Elizabeth countered, then she leaned back as if waiting for his reaction.

John exploded. "They're what?" He came out of his chair, eyes blazing. "They're out there without me?" He thumped his chest. "What the hell were you thinking?"

Elizabeth remained calm in the face of his outburst. "I was thinking that you're the only one who is grounded, Major. Your team isn't."

"But they're _MY_ team. I should have been informed." John wasn't about to let this go.

"You were sleeping." Elizabeth was still calm.

John ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up more than usual. "Who's ranking officer and who's flying? You didn't trust McKay to fly them, did you?"

The corners of Elizabeth's mouth twitched, as if she were fighting a smile. "Markham is ranking and they didn't need a jumper. It was a simple walk through the gate."

"Good choice," John conceded with ill grace. But he was still angry. So it was with difficulty that he managed to keep his voice soft as he asked, "Where are they?"

"MS2-641," Elizabeth replied. "Teyla has been there, and she said that the people left ten years ago. So it's abandoned. We sent a MALP through and Rodney discovered some energy readings. It should be a simple in and out, Major."

John felt a bit pacified. But only a bit. "I should be with them." He was speaking more to himself than to Weir. But then he locked eyes with her. "Look...we both know that I'm no good at sitting around and twiddling my thumbs."

Elizabeth nodded at that. "I know. As a matter of fact I've been talking to Beckett about ways of keeping you busy."

"Why don't I like the sound of that?" John said, and he frowned at her.

"Remember the last department head meeting?" Elizabeth queried.

John made a face. "Vaguely.

Elizabeth looked amused. "Well, we discussed cross training for everyone on Atlantis. And you are the perfect candidate to start the program."

"How do you figure?" John asked, although he was pretty sure he really did not want to know the answer to that. There was a gleam in Weir's eyes that was a bit unsettling.

"You've had first aid training from when you flew medivac, and Beckett wants to further train you," Elizabeth explained. "Being better experienced for medical emergencies while in the field is a good idea. Which, if you recall, were your own words at the meeting."

John winced and rubbed the back of his neck. He could feel the tension and the start of another headache. Sighing softly he replied, "Yeah...I vaguely remember saying that. But...I was talking about Ford." That evoked another wince. He missed the kid. Looking up at Weir, John could see a glint of sadness in her eyes.

Elizabeth nodded. "I know. But the fact of the matter is, you have the background training and you're the best qualified on your team. In fact, if you're feeling up to it, Dr. Beckett intended to see if you wanted to start your training today."

"I feel up to it, I told you I'm fine." John was feeling testy again.

"Good." Elizabeth looked pleased. "Oh...and I also spoke to Dr. Zalenka about helping out in the lab."

John was surprised by that. "I'm not a scientist," he reminded Weir.

She smiled at him. "I know that. But you are a math whiz and they could use your help."

"Knew I should have kept that under my hat," John mumbled to himself.

"It's in your file," Elizabeth pointed out, and she was smiling.

John had forgotten about that. He pinched the bridge of his nose then sighed. "Fine...whatever," he conceded. "I know when I'm whipped."

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at that, but let it slide. "Go see Beckett," she prompted, gesturing towards the door. A polite dismissal.

"Later," John drawled, as he headed out. He wasn't happy about this, but he figured it would be better than wandering around Atlantis with nothing to do. But his mind was on his team, out there without him. It felt unsettling to John in a way that he couldn't even explain to himself. And he didn't want to think about it. So he focused on getting through his exam with Beckett without snapping at the good doctor, and he did well.

"Ready for your training?" Carson asked, as he watched Sheppard slide off the exam table. Seeing the major's surprised look, he explained, "Doctor Weir contacted me to let me know she had spoken to you about it."

John realized he should have figured that out. Maybe he was more tired than he realized. Without thinking, he lifted one hand to rub his temple, trying to ease the dull ache that seemed to have settled in for a long stay. He didn't see Beckett's concerned look.

Carson's eyes narrowed. "Headache?" he prompted.

"Not really," John replied, a little too hastily. And he dropped his hand back to his side.

"Just so you know, I plan on sedating you again tonight," Carson stated. "For the next few nights, actually."

John was not expecting that, nor was he happy about it. "Forget it! I agreed to one night, period."

Carson crossed his arms over his chest and pinned the major with a look that brooked no arguments. "You'll do as I say, laddie, or I'll keep you in the infirmary on prescribed bed rest."

"You wouldn't?" But even as John spoke, he knew that Beckett would. He let his anger go, since all he was doing was making his headache worse. "You know what? That's fine. I don't care." John sighed. "So...are you going to train me or what?" He wanted to focus on something else. Anything else.

"Did you get a chance to read that book I gave you last month?" Carson queried.

John nodded. "Yeah...I read it a while ago, I just forgot to bring it back. Sorry."

Carson shrugged. "That's fine. Do you remember what you read? The basics were mapped out pretty clearly and it covered pretty much anything you might come across. Of course you'll need proper training for application, but so long as you have the basic idea, it will be easier for you to learn the best way to handle pretty much any and all emergencies."

"Test me," John offered. "Then we'll know what I remember."

"Fair enough." And Carson did just that, firing off question after question. And John gave him textbook perfect answers. After a few minutes Carson stopped, staring at Sheppard in astonishment. "How in the bloody hell do you remember all of that from a month ago?"

John didn't think it was that big a deal. "I have a good memory," he said, rather dismissively.

Carson gave him an appraising look. "How good a memory?" he prompted.

"Good." John shrugged, then he turned away and pretended interest in the blood pressure cuff. "I should probably practice this, right?"

"Don't change the subject, Major," Carson countered, snatching the cuff away. "How good a memory? Eidetic?"

John sighed, knowing Beckett was going to be like a bulldog with a bone. "Not like they portray it on TV, no."

Carson looked excited. "Ever been tested for it?"

Before John could reply, Carson got paged on his radio. John listened to him talk, ask a few terse questions, then he hid his relief when Beckett told him they'd have to get back to this later. "Everything okay?" John asked, with genuine concern.

"Nothing serious," Carson replied. "Possible allergic reaction to something in the Botany lab. I shouldn't be long."

"Guess I'll hang out with Zalenka then," John replied. "You can find me in the lab if you need me." He hoped he would not be needed. He wanted Beckett to forget this entire conversation.

Carson nodded at him, distractedly. He grabbed his medical kit then headed out the door.

John was relieved to see him go. Then he headed out himself. He did go to the lab and Zalenka did put him to work and, surprisingly, John rather enjoyed himself. He spent so much of his time playing soldier that he had forgotten how much he actually liked to problem solve. So a few hours passed without notice, until Zalenka deposited a tray of food in front of him. Automatically, John glanced at his watch. Noon on the dot. He narrowed his gaze at Zalenka. "Beckett or Weir?" he asked, smoothly.

Zalenka had the grace to look embarrassed. "Both."

"Figures." John sighed then rubbed the back of his neck. His headache just would not go away. Maybe eating would help. So he took a bite of the turkey sandwich, shaking his head a bit, and went back to the problem he was working on. A graph of sorts that had Zalenka and Kavanagh stumped.

It was an Ancient code they were trying to break and, oddly enough, it made a weird sort of sense to John. The fact that it was numerically based was part of the reason why, he was sure. But he found himself wanting to solve the problem, if only to rub it in Kavanagh's face. And Rodney's, once he got back to Atlantis.

John took a few more bites of his sandwich while he worked, but then he had to throw it out. Once again he felt nauseous. Only this time it wasn't easing up and after a few minutes he had to excuse himself. John barely made it back to his room before he was violently sick. Once he had emptied his stomach, he sat on the floor, shaking a bit. Once the nausea finally receded he got up, brushed his teeth and splashed some water on his face. Then he made his way to his bed and curled up on his side. In a heartbeat he was asleep.

oOo

John didn't dream. But he still felt uneasy when he woke up, two hours later. He took another shower to shake off the grogginess, then he headed for Weir's office. Hopefully, he hadn't been missed.

But as he reached the gateroom he heard Grodin announce, "Incoming wormhole. Dr. McKay's IDC."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four 

Sheppard automatically went on alert, along with the guards in the gateroom. He tensed, and wished for a weapon, even though he had no reason to believe danger was waltzing back with McKay and the others. He supposed it was a case where too many returns were often heralded by imminent doom and disaster.

His musings were interrupted by the schlerping sound of the event horizon as first Ford walked through, followed by Teyla and Markham. Sheppard waited anxiously for that fourth member, and was surprised to see Doctor McKay exit the wormhole smiling, and walking beside an older gentleman, whom he'd never seen before.

As the rest of the room became aware of the stranger, weapons were raised, and muscles tightened. Memories weren't short on Atlantis, and the Genii had left a psychological stamp that wouldn't be undone for a long while to come. Any stranger, coming unapproved into the city, was automatically assigned the category of high-risk.

McKay stepped forward, the satisfied smirk offering the first evidence that this man was, at the very least, not an immediate threat. "He's friendly," said Rodney. "Obviously, or I wouldn't have brought him."

Sheppard stepped forward, feeling an odd prickle behind his eyes that caused an itch he couldn't scratch. "That doesn't mean much," said John, a reference to a not so long ago incident with an Ancient that had caused McKay to truly get angry. Not his usual bluster and snappiness, but downright pissed-off, and with Sheppard no less.

"He's an Ancient," McKay announced.

The older man, for his part, appeared quite at ease…at home even, considering the information Rodney had provided moments ago. John sized him up. He could see it. The man had white hair, but with an agelessness about him, and a definite air of superiority and belonging in Atlantis, and that irked him. He'd come to think of Atlantis as theirs, by right of inheritance, if you will.

"Really," drawled Sheppard.

The man extended a hand towards John. "My name is Avitus. Your friend found me on Cicera, quite a surprise to _me_, to find out that Atlantis had risen to the surface and been taken over by the lot of _you_."

Sheppard eyed the hand uneasily, but extended his own, surprised at the firm grip. He felt a dull ache increase where the itch had been. "Major John Sheppard, military leader of the 'lot of us'," he smiled grimly as he completed the introduction.

Doctor Weir had arrived, and strode efficiently to Sheppard's side. "I'm Doctor Weir, leader of this expedition. You'll have to forgive us, we thought your kind was all but gone in this area, and now we've run into two of you."

Avitus frowned for a brief moment, before schooling his features into an enigmatic smile. "That must be Chaya."

"She had ulterior motives for coming here," Sheppard stated. "Do you?"

The smug expression that McKay had worn since they'd arrived, fell from his face, to be replaced with annoyance. "He offered to help, Major, not be subjected to twenty questions."

Sheppard didn't blink. "I think it's fair to expect an explanation for why he wants to help," he said evenly. "Don't you?"

"I think we'll be better off retiring to the briefing room," Weir interrupted further debate. Taking a minute, she addressed Ford and Teyla. "Lieutenant, you and Teyla go get your exam, and then Markham could use some help checking out sector five." She turned back to the others, and gestured for them to go up the stairs, towards the conference room. "Shall we?"

McKay couldn't help the irritated look he tossed Sheppard's way. It was like Rodney had invented the light bulb, and John had broken the glass bulb, and said it was too fragile. He stalked to the briefing room, followed by Avitus, and Sheppard.

After everyone was settled, Weir got straight to the point. "Avitus, you must understand, Chaya came here under false pretenses, and I have to say, I'm confused as to how you came to be here as well. I was under the impression that the Ancients left this galaxy ten-thousand years ago."

Avitus set his hands on the tabletop, steepling his fingers together. "Not all of our people left, Doctor. Before the Wraith forced my people from our home, some of us flocked to our home worlds, like Chaya, but unlike Chaya I do not interfere in their lives. She plays God, Madam, while I do not."

Sheppard snorted. "Please, I'm getting the impression that is all you people do."

Avitus swiveled his chair towards the Major. "That's a cynical way to view a race that provided you with this very city."

"Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the city, the technology…but you've got to admit, hell of a track record you guys seem to be chalking up." Sheppard sat stiffly, the ache rising in crescendo with each second that ticked by.

Rodney had been unusually quiet, but spoke in defense of the Ancient. "Major, I had to practically beg him to come back with me. He only offered to help because I figured out who he was when the LSD turned on when I walked by him, and he reacted to it," explained McKay. "The help he can give us in understanding the systems…it's huge."

"But I thought the Ancients weren't allowed to interfere?" asked Weir.

At that, Avitus smiled for the first time, with a cold smile that sent a chill through Sheppard's body. "But you see, _you_ are under the misguided belief that _I_ care what the others of my kind think. I assure you, I long ago began to act according to my desires, and not those of my race."

Sheppard wanted to swear. That's all they needed, another rogue Ancient. "And this makes you more trustworthy how?" he said instead.

Avitus paused, and regarded them intensely. "Who said I was trustworthy?" He flattened his hands, appearing to inspect his cuticles, then tucked them back in a clasped grip. It was a purposefully blasé act to portray his belief that their feelings were irrelevant in the matter at hand. "Major, I am here, by invitation," he stressed. "To answer questions regarding Atlantis…_my_ city." His eyes glittered with a hardness that sent a shiver through Elizabeth's blood. "_My_ trustworthiness is not in question here, if anything, _yours_ is. You are in _my_ home…it's up to me what help I wish to provide, and what I decide to do."

Elizabeth was stunned by Avitus's casual proclamation, but McKay remained enthusiastic, appearing unphased by the announcement. "I see," she said gravely. "Are we in danger from you?"

McKay roused. "What? Elizabeth…danger? Please!"

Sheppard raised a stalling hand. "It's a fair question, McKay. Are we in danger?"

Avitus barked a calculating laugh. "From me? I daresay not…from the Wraith…and others…certainly."

"Which is why we shouldn't be wasting time sitting here, when we need to get him out there showing us what this city can do," snapped Rodney, his impatience rearing its ugly head.

Elizabeth considered the options. "Okay, but, you will have a military escort at all times - "

"Elizabeth - "

"No, Rodney, I mean it. That's the only way I'll allow this." What was left unsaid was how exactly she'd prevent the Ancient from doing it anyway. He had powers they could only imagine, and she could only hope he wouldn't act against any of her people.

Sheppard was about to offer to be part of that guard, when a wave of nausea roiled through his belly, causing him to pale, and swallow reflexively, fighting against the urge to get sick. His headache had been growing steadily since they'd gotten in the briefing room, and it had become a pain that wouldn't be shoved aside any longer.

"Major Sheppard, are you alright?" asked Avitus, alarmed.

Sheppard needed to get out, he fought to stand on wobbly feet, a sharp spike of pain hitting at the motion, and things began to gray on the edges. He felt a cold sweat break out across his body.

Elizabeth was on her feet in a heartbeat. "John!" she shouted. "Medical team to the briefing room!" She jumped forward, barely catching the major as he went down. McKay had acted at the same time, and between the two of them, Sheppard was spared injury when he lost consciousness.

oOo 

Sheppard woke to the now familiar ache behind his eyes. There was a heaviness that covered his body like a weighted blanket, and he fought against it. He winced from the bright light, raising a hand to shield his eyes, feeling the familiar tug of an IV line. He idly wondered why it was that Doc was so eager to poke those in him whenever he was unfortunate enough to land in Beckett's care.

The good news, the bright light meant he hadn't been out long. The bad news, winding up here so soon after the last time meant it didn't look good for his return to duty in the near future. He looked around, surprised to find no one, not even McKay.

"Doc?" croaked John.

Sheppard heard Carson's chair squeak as he pushed the chair back from his desk. He heard the rustle of Beckett's white lab coat, and sure enough, the man himself hurried out of his office, to Sheppard's side.

"Ye're awake then, good to see," observed Carson.

Sheppard rolled his eyes. "Apparently so. What happened?" He was almost afraid to ask.

Beckett frowned. "I was hoping you could tell me."

Now it was John's turn to frown, right back at Beckett. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Major…" Beckett sat heavily down on the nearest chair, and John was surprised to notice the dark circles prominent under Carson's eyes, and the deep lines of worry etched around his mouth, and forehead. "I can't help you, if you don't tell me what's going on. This is more than being worn out. Something physiological is going on, and I can't pin it down, because you aren't being honest when I ask how you feel."

"I'm being honest!" defended Sheppard automatically. He cringed after it came out, because he was remembering all those times he'd said he was fine, and he wasn't. The exasperated look that crossed Beckett's face caused a flash of remorse. "Okay, okay…I've been having…" Sheppard struggled to find the right words. "They're headaches, but…it's like there's a pebble inside, you know?" He looked to Beckett for encouragement; a sign that he did know. Seeing nothing resembling that, he fumbled on. "It's like a grain of sand, inside an oyster, and the irritation is growing, and rubbing and it's getting bigger and bigger…"

Beckett was growing more concerned with his attempt at explaining his symptoms. "How long?"

"I don't know…" at Beckett's sharp look, he racked his mind, searching for the first seeds of pain. "Before the siege…Chaya…I think it was around then when it started."

Beckett's face darkened. John realized the implications of what he had only just now realized. "You think she had something to do with it?" he asked Carson, oddly reluctant to believe the beautiful Ancient was to blame for his deteriorating condition.

Carson took a deep breath. "It's possible. I think we need to run some more tests…"

Sheppard had sat up as an alarming thought raced through. "Where's Avitus?" He couldn't help but worry that the other man might be a risk for McKay. Rodney was acting as star struck as he had with Chaya, and for the first time he could understand McKay's anger at him when he was entertaining Chaya in the city.

Beckett pushed him back, shocked when the Major didn't yield to his force. "With Rodney, he's fine…"

But, before Carson could say anything else, Sheppard had yanked the IV line out, and stood up, shoving Beckett's grasping hands to the side. "We thought I was fine, also." And with that, John strode out of the infirmary, clad in scrubs and bare footed, with one purpose in mind; find McKay and keep him from Avitus's interference.

"Major! You shouldn't…" Beckett trailed off, as the major disappeared from sight. He stood, holding the tubing in one hand, and sighed. This sucked. This wasn't in his job description. _Bloody hell_…

**oOo**

"That's incredible!" whistled McKay appreciatively. "Really, that's genius…damn, I wish I would've thought about that…why didn't I think of that?"

Avitus was entranced with the eager pupil, and explained some of the basic systems in the city. "The quarantine protocol saved our city once from a plague that had the potential to wipe out our entire race." He explained to McKay. "I designed it myself."

Rodney shuddered with a recent memory. "Right, well…forgive me for not fully appreciating that, but we had a run-in with a nanovirus that almost killed a third of our people," the light went on, and McKay's face changed like mercury. "Who did it?" he asked, stopping in place. "The nanovirus…it attacked the visual cortex, and caused an aneurysm…who created it?"

For the first time, McKay saw a true reluctance in Avitus. "I am sorry, Doctor McKay, but this I cannot tell you."

Rodney wanted to argue why, but he felt his irritation wash away. The Ancient could help with many bigger things; it didn't matter that he wouldn't discuss the creators of that virus. It was insignificant. Rodney realized they'd wound their way to the mysterious console. "Ah, here it is!" He stood next to it, and grabbed the edge, staring at the dark display. "I've tried to activate this, at least a dozen times or more, even had Sheppard try, but it won't do anything. I can't tell if it's broke, or…"

"Get away from McKay," Sheppard's low warning interrupted Rodney.

Rodney turned around, and saw John standing there, with a gun pointed at Avitus, wearing nothing but the pink scrubs. "Major!"

Avitus backed away, spreading his hands in a peaceful motion. "Major Sheppard, I am no threat to Doctor McKay…or anyone in this city. I promise you."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes, staring hard at the man, searching for any sign of deception, but he found none. He let the gun fall; it was getting heavy anyway. "Then why are you here?"

"I only wish to help," Avitus stepped closer. "You are my descendants, after all…and I do have an interest in the welfare of Atlantis."

"Major, you shouldn't be here," snapped McKay. Rodney had never seen the Major so unbalanced before.

"No, it's okay, Doctor. The Major is actually just in time. You were telling me about this console, were you not?" Avitus was now even with McKay, and looking down at the console. It was in a room that stood alone, in the center of the city. It was more a pedestal than a console, but on it were controls…for what, McKay hadn't been able to figure out.

McKay paused, and his attention was drawn to the inactive panel. "Uh…yeah, I was hoping you could tell me what it was…or how to work it?" He cast a sidelong look at Sheppard; uneasy because he knew the Major should be in the infirmary. And there was a growing doubt in the back of his mind that not everything was as it seemed.

Avitus stepped to the side, and reached for Sheppard, a soft touch against the major's arm, "Why don't you try again, Major?"

Sheppard pulled back, as if the touch was hot fire on bare skin. He felt his headache flare again, the pebble becoming a stone. "No…I…" he struggled to pull his eyes off the object. "I tried before, it didn't work."

John _had_ tried before, and he'd felt something, though the console hadn't outwardly responded. He'd had a nudge inside; a hum that he didn't recognize the source, and that growing itch had flashed strong, and hungry. He'd pulled back from it then, and brushed off his reaction as nerves. Now, he was oddly reluctant, especially in the presence of Avitus, and it unnerved him. _What was going on?_

McKay fidgeted, torn by his desire for more information and his concern for Sheppard. "Try again…" he winced. McKay had meant to say he should go…why was he so tongue-tied?

Sheppard stared at McKay, his fear stark in his features, a betrayal to his normal state of casual assurance. But, his feet inched forward, and his hands reached out towards the console. The heat swept through his body, swelling in crescendo as his palms neared the smooth edge. He yanked back, slapped by his own reflexes responding to some invisible force that only he appeared to feel.

He stumbled, a hand rising to his eye, where the heat flashed bright, and hard, like the striking of a match on a flint. He wavered on his feet, and felt the queasiness return. "McKay…" he stuttered, before going down on his knees.

Rodney's firm grip found his arms, and helped ease him down. "I need a medical team…now!" Sheppard heard McKay's panicked voice call. The last thing he saw was Avitus staring at him. A mixture of concern and satisfaction, which confused John, and then all was lost in a swirl of pain and blackness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

John came awake sluggishly. He felt achy and lethargic and strangely gritty. As he shifted his body, preparing to open his eyes, John felt the blanket slide across his highly sensitized skin. That raw feeling you get, like from a carpet burn. What bothered John a little, was not knowing _why _he felt this way. But despite that fact, he forced his eyes opened and blinked a few times. The face looming over him came slowly into focus. "Hi, Teyla," John said softly.

"Major," she replied, with a nod and a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Ask me later." As he spoke, John shifted so that he was sitting up more and then he cursed to see the dreaded IV taped to the back of his left hand. "How long was I out?"

Carson bustled into the room just in time to answer Sheppard's question. "About six hours," he replied, as he moved to take the major's pulse. "How do you feel?"

John considered how to answer that, then settled for, "Fine."

"Really?" Carson looked unconvinced.

"Okay..." John winced and went for the truth. "Maybe a little lightheaded." Which he hadn't realized until now. He felt lightheaded and weak and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Even to himself.

Carson nodded, then patted Sheppard's shoulder. "You need to eat."

Teyla spoke up, still smiling. "I brought you some Eitar bread, I know that you liked it the last time we visited the mainland." As she spoke she pointed to the rolling bedtable where a wrapped up loaf sat waiting.

"Thank you," John replied, and he meant it. Eitar was like a sweet bread, and had a cinnamony flavor. John did like it and he was touched by Teyla's thoughtfulness. "I'll have some later."

"You'll have some now," Carson interjected, reaching for the loaf. "That is if you want to get out of here any time soon."

John opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it closed when he realized Beckett was serious. So he accepted a chunk of the bread and took a cautious bite. It was hard to swallow and he felt a bit nauseous, but it stayed down. John took another bite, a bigger one this time, then he pointed to his IV. "Why do you keep sticking those damn things into me?" he demanded.

Carson grinned as he checked on the attached bags. One was nearly empty, the other half full. He checked the drip, adjusted it a little, then replied. "For one thing you're dehydrated major, so I'm trying to remedy that. Oh...by the way...how's the headache?"

"Better," John replied, without hesitation. And he could tell that Carson was suspicious of his answer. "Really. It's just kind of an annoying ache at the moment. No big deal." He held Beckett's gaze, knowing the doctor was deciding if he could believe him or not, then Beckett was nodding and John was relieved. He took another bite of bread then asked, "So...when can I get out of here?"

"Maybe tomorrow," Carson allowed, as he fussed with the blankets. "Are you cold?"

John wondered why Beckett would ask, only to realize he was shivering. He didn't know why. "No - I'm not cold," John stated. He wondered why he was shivering, only to decide he really did not want to know. "So I can leave in the morning?"

Beckett rolled his eyes. "More like tomorrow night. But only if you behave yourself."

"Hey...I'm a model patient," John shot back, pretending to take offense. And it felt good to be able to joke for a moment. Everything had been so intense for the past few weeks. In fact, John could feel the tension that vibrated throughout his body. It was hard to remember how to relax. Everywhere he looked it seemed as if some enemy lay lurking in the shadows.

"Maybe compared to Rodney," Carson allowed, and he looked amused.

The mention of Rodney reminded John. "Where is Avitus?"

It was Teyla who answered him. "I believe he is resting now. He told Doctor Weir he was tired. He also asked about you, Major. He was concerned."

"Yeah...well I'm fine," John stated, adamantly. He looked at Carson as he spoke and the doctor simply cocked and eyebrow at him in disbelief. John cocked an eyebrow back then laughed at the image that flickered in his head. They were both channeling Spock.

"Finish eating, major," Carson ordered. "Then get some sleep. Trust me, the rest will do you good."

Teyla leaned in to touch her forehead to Sheppard's in the way of her people. They had done so once before. "I will go and let you rest."

John reached for her hand before she could turn away. "Wait, Teyla...I'd like you to stay for a bit. If you don't mind." John needed to talk to her about something. Or, rather, someone.

"I will be happy to stay," Teyla replied. "If Doctor Beckett says that it is all right."

"Aye, it's fine. Just don't stay long," Carson told her. Then he shook a finger at Sheppard. "Eat and rest. I'll be back to check on you in a few." With that he turned and strode out of the area.

John grimaced. "Lucky me."

Teyla looked sympathetic. "He is just concerned for your...well being."

"I know." And John was grateful. But he had something else on his mind at the moment. He set the piece of Eitar bread that he was still holding onto the bed stand. Then he focused on Teyla.

"What do you think of Avitus?" John asked because he trusted Teyla's instincts. For the most part she had good, sound insights about people. She sure as hell had his number, John reflected, ruefully. He knew she didn't really _get_ him, but she came closer to understanding who he really was than anyone else in Atlantis.

"I like him," answered Teyla honestly. And she looked at Sheppard in a way to let him know that she was aware of what he was really asking. "I do not sense any danger from him."

John nodded. He didn't get that sense either. But then he reminded Teyla of something. "You thought Chaya was okay too." They both had. Truthfully, John didn't know how he felt about Chaya any more. When they had joined, John had gotten to know Chaya. To see the woman she really was. Sometimes it made him feel unsettled. In part because he knew that she had seen who he really was in return, and she had reminded him, once again, that they were not so different. John shook his head. That was a thought for another time.

Teyla tilted her head as she studied Sheppard, as if trying to read him. "Chaya did not harm us, Major. She was not honest with us, but she had her reasons not to trust. We show caution when meeting strangers, why should she have acted differently? She had no cause to trust us without getting to know if we could be trusted first."

"And, ultimately...she didn't trust us," John muttered. Because Chaya had only admitted to be Athar, the Ancient, once McKay had figured her out. "She could have trust us," he continued. "She's an Ancient with the power to blast wraith ships into space dust. She had no reason to fear us."

"Who are you trying to convince Major? Me - or yourself?" Teyla prompted, her voice soft.

John sighed and he wasn't entirely sure himself. "So...you trust Avitus?" he prompted.

Teyla nodded. "Yes. He has given me no reason not too. But I sense that you do not trust him."

"I don't know." That was as honest as John could get. "I trusted Chaya and Rodney didn't, but now it's like a role reversal."

"But Avitus did not hide who he was from us," Teyla countered.

John had thought of that. "Yeah...I guess. But we have a saying on Earth. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."

Teyla looked thoughtful for a moment, then she nodded. "I have found your instincts to be sound, for the most part, Major. Do not lose faith in them...or yourself."

"Yeah...I have a great track record with that," John drawled. He wasn't going to pretend otherwise. There was more he wanted to say but it was cut off by a jaw cracking yawn.

"I will go now so you can rest." Teyla lightly touched his arm then she turned to go.

John almost called her back but he was tired. So he let his eyes drift closed and soon he was wrapped in warm darkness. But then he dreamed.

_John stared at the console, feeling a surge of anger towards it. Anger laced with fear. He knew that it was important, important in a way that Rodney could only guess at. But John did not want to be here. Still he moved towards it, one hand reaching out. A hand that was shaking even as he pressed his palm to the cool surface. He felt the hum of power as a bright light flashed, making him close his eyes. Then the light faded and in his mind he saw a Wraith hive ship in space. A familiar ball of light zoomed towards it, enveloping it, and then the ship exploded into space rubble, just like before. When Athar had destroyed it. The hum within him faded._

"NO!" John came awake with a start, his voice hoarse and his throat tight. He was shaking and his skin was slicked in a cold sweat. Then the nurse was there, checking on him, and John assured her he was fine. He took a sip of the water she offered, let her wipe his face with a soft cloth, then he curled up on his side and tried to forget.

oOo

Somehow John managed to fall back asleep and not dream again. But he felt tired and worn out and he wished he knew why. Still, he hid that fact as best he could when Carson came to check on him. It was morning and John wanted out of here today.

"If you eat good you can leave in a few hours," Carson allowed. "But I want you to take it easy, Major. And if your headache gets worse I want you in here immediately. Do you understand me?"

"Got it." John would agree to anything.

He watched Carson remove the IV then he slid out of bed. He needed to use the bathroom. Once he had relieved himself, John washed his hands then splashed cold water on his face. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and he was surprised by how pale he looked. And his eyes were dark and he was shaking. He knew what haunted him. That damn dream. He couldn't shake it off. He wondered if it meant something. If maybe it was a warning in some way. If maybe it connected Avitus to Chaya and they needed to be careful and cautious. But to believe that would be to believe in premonitions, which John did not. So he dried his face and headed back to his infirmary bed.

Weir was there, waiting for him. She drew the covers over him, fussing a bit like a mother would, then she stepped back while the nurse placed a tray of food on Sheppard's lap.

"You look better," Elizabeth said, when they were alone again.

John nodded, chewing and swallowing a piece of toast before replying. "I feel better. I'm out of here in a few." He took another bite of toast but it was hard to get it down. He just wasn't hungry. But he washed it down with a swig of what passed for Orange juice, then asked, "Where's Rodney?" Usually Rodney came to visit when he was in the infirmary.

"He's holed up in his lab with Zalenka," Elizabeth replied. "They're going over the information Avitus gave them about various aspects of Atlantis. He sort of gave them a verbal version of an instruction manual." She looked amused. "By the way, there's a briefing in two hours to further discuss what Avitus can do for us...and if there is anything we can offer him in return."

"I want to be there." John was adamant.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?"

John pushed aside the tray and locked eyes with Weir. "Sitting in a chair...talking...isn't exactly strenuous. Besides...Beckett's cleared me."

"I know...I spoke to him before I stopped by." Elizabeth sighed. "All right, you can come. Actually, I was hoping you would."

"Good." John was glad that they seemed to be on the same wavelength. But he wanted to be sure. "Can I ask you something?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Of course."

John pondered how to word his question, then just blurted out, "Do you think we can trust Avitus?"

"I think so." Elizabeth didn't hesitate in her reply. "I think he is who he seems to be, and I think he really does want to help us. And that, unlike Chaya, he is capable of doing so."

"McKay seems to trust him." John realized that he wasn't exactly responding to what Weir had said. Right now he was just thinking out loud.

Elizabeth narrowed her gaze at Sheppard, as if trying to get inside his head. "Yes, he does," she replied.

John folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his own gaze back at her. "Doesn't that seem just a little bit weird, after the whole Chaya thing?"

"I've thought about that," Elizabeth allowed. "But if there is one thing that I learned from that incident, it's that Rodney's instincts are pretty good. He was right about Chaya so I'm inclined to trust him in regard to Avitus."

"Yeah...he was right about Chaya." John closed his eyes then pressed his palms over them. His headache was charging up again. And he couldn't help flashing back to his dream. And he remembered when they had connected. It had surpassed anything purely emotional and physical. They had touched on a different level. Touched souls, maybe. And through it all John remembered the feeling of power. The way it had thrummed through him, like a low level vibration. The power Chaya possessed was both breathtaking and terrifying, and she had allowed John to feel it.

"Major?"

Shaking away his thoughts, John realized Weir was talking to him. He lowered his hands and blinked at her. "I'm sorry...what were you saying?"

Elizabeth studied him for a moment. "Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should stay here and rest for a few more days."

"I'm fine!" John hissed, more sharply than he had intended. He waved a hand at her and apologized. "Sorry...I'm just tired of being here."

"Then you'd better eat or you'll be staying." Elizabeth set the tray back on his lap.

John made a face, but he grabbed another slice of toast. "Don't start the meeting without me," he beseeched.

Elizabeth smiled. "I won't." Then she touched his arm before heading out.

Left alone again, John worked his way through his breakfast, but all the while he was haunted by the memory of his dream.

oOo

After a bit of begging and groveling on his part, John was released. The first place he headed for was his room. After a long shower he dressed in his uniform pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. From habit he strapped on his thigh holster. Then he was ready. He left his room and headed for the conference room. The briefing was set to start in five minutes.

To John's surprise, everyone was there but Avitus. And after John took his usual seat, he realized Teyla was missing as well and commented on it.

Elizabeth replied. "Teyla is Avitus's guard for today. I'm sure they'll be along soon."

"Of course they will," Rodney interjected. He was eating a powerbar while typing on his laptop. But he paused for a moment to study Sheppard. "You look...better." He didn't sound all that sincere.

"Thanks," John drawled, feeling a bit offended. "I feel fine."

Rodney grimaced. "Yeah...well you sure didn't look fine yesterday."

John glared at him. "Can we drop it, please?"

"Whatever." Rodney went back to typing.

"Gentleman," Elizabeth said firmly, when she saw Sheppard about to reply back. And it was at this moment that Teyla appeared with Avitus in tow.

Teyla nodded at Weir. "Sorry we are late," she apologized.

Avitus was smiling as he shuffled his robes about before sitting down. "My fault," he stated. "I am easily sidetracked here. It has been wonderful being able to reacquaint myself with my home."

That comment hung in the hair and there was a long moment of heavy silence.

Which Rodney broke. "Okay...let's get this show on the road, shall we? To bring everyone up to date, I just want to say that the information Avitus has given us is proving to be very helpful in explaining what the various devices and consoles throughout Atlantis do. And as great as that is, I just want to go on record as saying that there is much much more to explore."

"Thank you, Rodney," Elizabeth said, interrupting him before he could ramble on. "You've left it open for me to bring up something I've been wanting to discuss with Avitus." She turned and focused her attention on the Ancient. "We really do appreciate all that you are doing for us, which leads me to wonder...What can we do for you in return?"

"Friendship." Avitus responded, promptly.

Elizabeth looked puzzled. "Friendship?" she echoed. "That's all? Don't you have any questions for us?"

Avitus shook his head. "Doctor McKay has been most helpful in that regard."

At that John looked at Rodney and saw that he looked a bit sheepish, which made him wonder just what he might have told Avitus. Rodney had a bad habit of running off at the mouth.

Rodney looked up from his laptop to see Sheppard glaring at him, which he promptly ignored as he said to Avitus, "Shall we continue the tour then? I think we've covered everything of importance, and there is still a lot we need you to activate for us."

"I believe you told me that Major Sheppard has the strongest ability with the gene," Avitus countered, and he was looking at Sheppard as he spoke.

"Yes...that's right," Rodney replied.

Avitus looked pleased. "Then I would like for him to accompany us on the tour."

Elizabeth was about to protest, but John cut her off.

"I'd be happy too," he said firmly. John wanted to keep an eye on Avitus. He wanted to make sure that the Ancient didn't try anything, and to stop Rodney from giving away any sensitive information.

"You're supposed to be resting, Major," Elizabeth reminded him.

John shrugged then turned on the charm, offering a boyish grin. He could see that she was aware of what he was trying to do, she always knew, but she let herself fall for it anyway.

Folding her arms across her chest and glaring just a bit, Elizabeth nodded. "All right, you can go, but for no more than an hour. If you're not in your room and resting by then, I will send out the marines to escort you back to the infirmary, Major. Understood?"

"Understood," he replied. John pushed his chair back and stood up, focusing on Rodney. "So...where are we going first?"

Ten minutes later, John was sorry he had asked that question.

They were back in the room with the console. Rodney seemed fixated on it to an obsessive degree. That worried John a bit, but he didn't voice his concern. He simply stood there as watched as Rodney spoke with Avitus. He watched and tried to ignore the anxiety that skittered up his spine.

After a moment, Avitus turned from Rodney to speak with Sheppard. "Have you tried to active any other console in Atlantis, major?"

"Not really," John replied, as he watched Avitus move closer. He had to resist the urge to take a step back as the anxiety he felt flared up from an ember into a flame. "I've been a little busy. Besides which, I'm military so it's been left to Rodney and his scientists to focus on bringing Atlantis online...so to speak."

"But you have the gene," Avitus persisted, as he moved a step closer to Sheppard.

John gritted his teeth and held his ground, but the flame of anxiety was now a burning tingle that singed across his skin, and his headache was now thumping in his temples. Still, he locked eyes with Avitus and replied, "So do a couple dozen others, including Rodney."

Avitus's mouth twisted into a grimace. "Doctor McKay's gene is artificial," he countered, scornfully. "The city will respond to it...to an extent, but it knows the difference, major."

"It does?" Rodney interjected, and he looked both surprised and curious. "How?"

"Atlantis knows it's own, Doctor McKay," Avitus replied, but he was still focused on Sheppard.

Rodney looked disappointed, but shrugged it off. "Oh...right." He moved to the console and patted it. "So...Avitus, feel free to fire her up anytime."

Avitus smiled. "As I said before, I think Major Sheppard should try it first."

"No." John spoke without meaning too, and a sudden spike of pure panic made him finally take a step back. He did not want to go anywhere near the damn console. Lifting one hand to his head, John rubbed at his temples.

The pain was back full force and Carson was going to have a field day with him, which pissed John off to no end, and he took his anger out on Avitus, blaming him for this. "I already told you...I tried. Nothing happened!" The pain was a heavy throb in his temple and it was taking a side trip, slipping behind his eyes. John closed them for a moment.

"Did you really?" Avitus countered, and he sounded angry.

Rodney, on the other hand, was impatient. He wanted to get the console activated. From the moment they had found this room and this particular console, he had been certain that it would be important to them. That somehow it was the key to unlocking Atlantis. Or, at the very least, to pointing them in the right direction to finding the key.

Huffing out a sigh, he said to Avitus, "The Major is telling the truth. We had him touching things when we first arrived. Nothing happened. We need Ancient energy, so to speak. Which you have in spades."

Avitus turned to McKay. "Ah...but things have changed since you first arrived on Atlantis, Doctor McKay. Have they not?" As with his last words he turned back around to focus on Sheppard. "Perhaps he should try again."

"No." The word came out as barely a whisper this time. John felt sick and nauseous and he was fighting the urge to turn tail and run. The image from his dream flashed in his head again, taunting him. He saw himself touching the console. He blinked at the remembered brightness of the cloud of white light. And then he watched the Wraith ship go boom. Slowly, John backed away towards the door.

"Oh, all right already!" Rodney grumbled. He moved to Sheppard, grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him forward.

John tried to stop his forward momentum, but he felt dizzy and he stumbled and the next thing he knew, he felt something cool and smooth beneath his palm. John looked down to see that Rodney had his held pressed flat to the console. And in that moment it flared to life, lighting up from end to end. John gasped, feeling a tingling in his hand, which then skittered under his skin. It was warm, heating up as it slithered into his veins and then it was too hot and the heat began to vibrate and John could almost hear the hum of it in his ears. He knew what it was, remembered what it felt like. Pure power. He yanked his hand free and cradled it to his chest.

Rodney looked disappointed as the console powered down again. He had just begun to scan it. Turning to Sheppard he snapped, "Touch it again!"

"No." John shook his head and backed away, and this time he did not resist the urge that burned inside. He turned and ran.

"What the hell?" Rodney looked stunned as he watched John go. "What was that about?" It was pretty much a rhetorical question.

But Avitus answered it anyway. "He is...frightened."

Rodney frowned. "By what?" Then he shook his head. He would never understand what made Sheppard tick. "Never mind," Rodney stated. "Okay, Avitus…you touch it."

"It is not for me to do so, Doctor," Avitus replied. "It is for Major Sheppard. He is the one who belongs here now." And with that, Avitus turned and strode out of the room.

"What the hell is going on?" Rodney wondered, as he was left on his own. Then he strode out as well. He wanted answers and, somehow, he would get them.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six 

Whispers…all around…and yet he couldn't hear what they said. Sheppard reached, and tried to grab a word, a thought, and still it jumped, and changed, and it was a different whisper…every time.

He rolled in bed, his sheets sticking to his bare torso. The whispers were growing, but it seemed the louder they got, the more unintelligible they became. He tossed again. It was louder…and louder…and he woke up with a start.

He took a deep breath, surprised to find he'd been holding it. He gasped the air in with sweet relief, and wondered what the hell was that? His body was slicked in a cold sweat from the dream…nightmare…whatever it was. He groaned, and reached a hand to flip the lamp on.

What time was it, anyway, he wondered? He swung his legs over the side, and grimaced as he felt the damp sheets give up their hold on his skin. He picked up his watch, and peered tiredly at the LCD, two-thirty in the morning. _Damn_.

The dream, he tried to remember what it was. Chaya, she'd been there. He hadn't seen her, so much as felt her. Ever since she'd shared with him, he'd been having problems and now this. Sheppard slid the watch onto his wrist, and got up, knowing sleep at this point was useless.

Something was wrong with him. He'd spent weeks biting every one's head off. He'd lost weight. Headaches plagued him. He was hearing things…things he couldn't understand, and that damn console. It scared the hopping hell out of him, and he didn't know why. It was high time he figured out why, because something had to give, and he'd rather it not be his sanity.

He pulled his pants on, and slipped his black t-shirt over his head, yanking it over his chest. Forgoing socks, he pulled on his boots. Earlier, he'd run from the console. He'd never run from anything in his life. Why was this console causing so much fear without any legitimate reason? He left his room, and headed to the console room. Time to face his demons.

oOo

McKay studied the results, and didn't like what he saw. Something was off. He'd run the test at least ten times, and yet the data was only reproducible to an order of ten to the negative third. That wasn't good enough. He needed at least results good to the nanometer.

But, it was late, and tiredness wasn't going to work in his favor tonight. When you got tired, you got sloppy. You missed things in calculations, left out variables; heck, one time he'd been so tired he'd left out mass entirely from an equation. That was pretty damn important when you try to calculate force.

He glanced at the clock. Two-thirty. Later than he thought. He shut the program down, not bothering to save the latest run. Garbage. He stood up from the chair, and stretched, knees protesting the length of time he'd sat without moving. Sometimes getting old sucked. Of course, not getting old sucked more, he thought wryly. He shut off the lights, and headed into the dimly lit corridor.

oOo

Sheppard stood in front of the console. It was dark, the city lights lowered for night, but the soft glow from the few lit areas allowed him to see everything he needed. Now that he was here, he wondered why this had seemed like a good idea.

The headache that was already throbbing reminded him. He had a hunch this was going to make or break him. This would either solve it, or kill him. Why he knew that, he didn't know. He just did.

He steadied himself. Waiting wasn't going to get his nerves any steadier…just the opposite. The more he stood here, the more he wanted to go back to bed and never touch that console again.

"Oh, hell," he muttered. He stepped forward, and thrust his hands on the console. He never saw the bright light effuse the room, and he never saw his body go rigid as the power coursed from the console into him. He never saw his body shake, and he didn't see himself fall to the ground, like a boneless fish…

…but McKay did. McKay, who had been returning to his quarters, and saw the flash of bright light. He'd ran to the room, only to see Sheppard's body tense, and jerk, before falling.

"Major!" shouted McKay, running in, and kneeling. He rolled Sheppard's body towards him, and found John to be deeply unconscious. He tapped the comm button. "I need a med team!" he hollered, and he was losing control, because Sheppard had stopped breathing.

oOo

McKay looked at the still figure in the bed. Sheppard wasn't moving. He wasn't breathing…or he wouldn't be, without the assistance of the ventilator. He was looking to see any sign that the man he knew was still there. The problem was, he didn't see anything.

"You should get some rest," spoke Carson from behind him.

McKay hadn't heard the doctor. He hadn't heard much of anything since…

"How could I be wrong?" he wondered. "Not that I haven't been wrong before," he continued as if he were explaining the situation to an imaginary friend, "But not like this…"

Beckett wasn't sure if McKay was asking him, or talking to himself. "You can't blame yourself…"

"Then who else?" asked McKay. "He didn't want to touch the console. I pushed him." Rodney turned, and looked at Beckett. "_I'm_ the one who kept pushing!"

Carson didn't know what to say that would reassure Rodney. Preliminary tests were worrisome. Sheppard was in a coma, unresponsive. They'd stabilized him, and now needed to run tests. "Get some sleep," he ordered, instead of offering platitudes. "We've got to take him for scans, anyway, so you might as well. Come back when you wake up," Beckett's eyes slid off McKay and onto Sheppard. "We'll know more then."

McKay closed his eyes, just for a moment, and he felt the tiredness. He felt all the pent up frustration that had been boiling under the surface since he'd seen Sheppard fall, and it was joined by all the frustration he'd felt over the past year. Why couldn't it ever be easy? Every time it seemed something went right, fate had to step in and kick them down.

Well fate wasn't going to win this one, he thought grimly. He took a last look at Sheppard, and strode out. There wasn't anything to say that would make it better, so he didn't say anything at all.

oOo

McKay jogged through the hall. Beckett had called. The results from Sheppard's MRI were in, and he wanted Rodney and Elizabeth to meet him in the infirmary. He waited impatiently for the doors to open wide enough to admit him. He hoped that he'd see Sheppard awake, or at least breathing on his own now.

Beckett waved him over, and he saw Carson was discussing a picture of Sheppard's brain that he was holding up to the light.

"How is he?" asked McKay.

Carson wished he had better news. "Same," he answered. "But the MRI results are interesting." Beckett gestured for McKay to look. "You see the area in red?"

McKay nodded. "There's a lot," he said. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Beckett shook his head. "No, at least, not this much," he clarified. "I found something interesting though." He walked over to his computer and tapped a few buttons. "I did a search of the symptoms and found this…" Carson showed the contents on the screen.

"But that's John's MRI?" said Elizabeth.

"No, it isn't." Carson pointed at the bottom of the screen. Colonel Jack O'Neill.

"How is this possible?" asked Elizabeth, looking from the screen to Beckett. "What caused this in General O'Neill?"

McKay had a sinking feeling he knew. He'd read all the mission reports. From the beginning he'd been fascinated by the Stargate. He'd worked in Area 52 as a consultant. He'd gotten two chances to actually work directly with the SGC. And he read every single mission report. "Back then, O'Neill was the commander of SG-1," he explained. "Hence, Colonel. He had the knowledge of the Ancients downloaded into his brain by a device they found on another planet that wasn't known to the Go'auld."

Elizabeth felt her heart sink to her feet. She hadn't known. Or rather she knew about the download, at least the second one, but she hadn't seen the MRI's from when it happened. "There's no Asgard nearby," she said flatly. "But we can send a message."

"If they aren't too busy," McKay said. Last time they'd been almost too late to save O'Neill. If it hadn't been for the stasis chamber, it would've been.

"But we do have an Ancient," said Elizabeth. She looked at McKay. "Avitus."

And suddenly, Rodney experienced flashes of scenes from before. Avitus asking about Sheppard, telling him that the console was for Sheppard to activate, and the interest Avitus had in the Major seemed ominous now, in hindsight.

The disjointed scenes snapped into one realization. "That son of a bitch _knew_ this was going to happen," swore McKay.

Beckett didn't say anything but Elizabeth appeared to dismiss the idea, consider it, and become upset once she realized that it wasn't impossibility. She didn't have time to form an idea on how to handle the situation, because McKay was already sprinting out the door, to where, she had a horrible feeling that she knew. She tapped her earpiece. "Bates, meet me at the guest quarters!" She didn't even bother explaining to Beckett who was looking shocked by the turn of events. Instead, she headed out after Rodney, hoping she could prevent anything else from going wrong.

oOo

Rodney stormed into Avitus's room. He didn't wonder at why it was open, his only thought was finding out just what the hell kind of secret agenda this Ancient had.

Avitus was sitting on his bed, cross-legged, and still. When he sensed McKay's presence, he opened his eyes sedately. "Doctor McKay, I've been expecting you," he said.

"You set him up!" accused McKay. "You son of a bitch! You knew it would download the knowledge of your kind into his brain!" He was breathing hard and fought against the urge to grab the old man and shake him. "Why?" he asked. "Just tell me why you would do that?"

McKay's anger was becoming overwhelmed now by the impact of what had happened to Sheppard. "Just…tell me why? We trusted you. _I _trusted you…"

Avitus stood, and the white folds of his robe fell smoothly into place. "Because it was meant for him," he said.

"What?" McKay was only inches in the door, and Avitus's answer seemed to take the wind out of his sails, because it wasn't what he'd expected to hear.

Elizabeth jogged in the room. "Rodney, wait…" she trailed off when she realized that McKay wasn't attacking the Ancient, nor was the Ancient attacking McKay. "Never mind," she said.

Avitus started towards the doorway, when Bates and his team arrived. "All this is unnecessary. I will come with you. Please, let us go see your Major, and I will explain everything."

Elizabeth waved off Bates and the others, and they started towards the infirmary. "I told you the console was meant for Major Sheppard, and that is the truth," he began to explain as they walked. "Thousands of years ago, we knew we had to leave. We also knew that our people would hopefully continue, in some form or another, and one day return."

"What does that have to do with Sheppard's brain getting reformatted?" snapped McKay.

Avitus smiled. "Patience, Doctor McKay," he cautioned good naturedly. "The dilemma was, we could not assume that our knowledge would remain intact. One of us might return, and that alone was an undertaking, as I'm sure you know," he said. "But they might not know everything we've learned."

Avitus gestured at the city in a sweeping motion. "This city you see is much more than technology and metal, it's alive!" he said dramatically. "This city thinks, and watches…you've seen it yourself, when the nanovirus invaded your people."

"That was just a program," protested McKay.

Elizabeth added, "Besides, it didn't work in the damaged areas of the city."

"When your leg gets broken, does it bear weight?" Avitus asked. "Damage to living things rends them incapable as well as machines."

"Fine, the city is some living thing," snapped McKay. "But what does that have to do with Sheppard?"

Avitus remained nonplussed by the conversation, and the haranguing. "The city has been waiting for him for a very long time, Doctor McKay…for the next evolution of our people."

"What!"

Two simultaneous exclamations from Weir and McKay caused the old man to grin more. "You've said it yourself, the technology responds to Sheppard with no effort on his part. He walks by, and systems activate, and respond. He is what we would be had my people chosen not to ascend."

McKay and Weir realized they had arrived back at the infirmary. The doors opened, granting them access. The two woodenly moved in to the room, pausing for Avitus to follow.

Rodney was trying to wrap his mind around what Avitus had said, but it still didn't change that Sheppard was lying in a coma. That had never happened to O'Neill. "The last one of our people that got subjected to your knowledge download almost died."

"He wasn't the one," remarked Avitus. "He wasn't of strong enough genealogy." They'd managed to come up alongside Sheppard's bed. "Think of it as a first cousin instead of a brother, or sister," he explained.

"But," started Weir. "He's in a coma, he's dying."

Avitus shook his head. "No, not dying. His mind must process the knowledge. It must change. To do this, he is…" Avitus touched Sheppard's hand gently, "…learning."

McKay swallowed nervously. He still didn't trust Avitus, but he couldn't think of why the Ancient would come up with an elaborate deception like this. He was a scientist. You formed a theory, and went from there. Right now, the theory that Avitus was giving him was logical, but on a whole different level, Rodney wanted to disbelieve it as incredible, and fantastical…fantasy instead of reality. But the alternative for Sheppard…

"Will he be the same?" he asked quietly, the snappish and acerbic edge disappearing briefly in the sudden spike of fear that his friend wouldn't be the same.

"No," Avitus said, watching Rodney's face fall. "And yes," he offered. "He'll understand far more than you can comprehend, Doctor McKay. He'll be an Ancient…but he'll still be John Sheppard." He reached a hand out and this time touched McKay, who felt warmth spread through his body. "He'll still be your friend."

Elizabeth had fallen back to Carson's office, pulling him out so he could talk to Avitus about Sheppard's condition. They'd overheard the conversation. Elizabeth looked sadly at the man standing beside the bed, and at the man lying on the bed.

She didn't understand how two polar opposites like Rodney and John had managed to find such an enduring friendship in the other, but find it they did. From the first time when she'd seen Sheppard shove McKay over the balcony, the growing camaraderie had amazed her…and alarmed her. Losing people was a fact of life for members of this expedition, and she shuddered to think what the loss of one would do the other.

And then this…losing one, and not losing him. What would happen? She looked towards Carson, and realized he'd already joined McKay and Avitus, and were discussing Sheppard. She didn't have any answers, and she wasn't even sure who to ask.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven 

Elizabeth was sitting next to Sheppard's bed when he came awake, without warning. It had been six days since the major had gone into a coma. Three days ago Carson had been able to take him off the ventilator and Avitus had visited and assured them that Sheppard would awaken soon.

Elizabeth had expected it to be slow process, but Sheppard was struggling to sit up, his eyes wild, panic written in his features. "John...John it's okay. You're okay." Elizabeth jumped up and grabbed his shoulders, keeping him back against the pillows. "You're in the infirmary." She watched as he clutched his head with shaky hands and his eyes scrunched shut. She could tell he was in pain. "CARSON!" Elizabeth bellowed. "GET IN HERE!"

Carson barreled into the room, his eyes going wide at the sight of Sheppard. He pushed Elizabeth aside, one hand reaching for Sheppard's wrist to take his pulse. The other touched the major's face. "Major...can you hear me?"

"Hurts..." John whispered, through clenched teeth.

"I can give you a little something for the pain." With that Carson ran off again.

Elizabeth had moved to the other side of the bed. "John...I'm here." She wasn't' sure he heard her or understood, but she needed to say it.

John slitted one eye open, then he reached out to her with a shaky hand.

"It's going to be okay," Elizabeth said softly, as she gripped his hand and held it firm between both of her own. She felt the weakness of Sheppard's grip and that scared her. He was always so strong. And he was trembling so hard it just about made her teeth rattle. "Just hang on." She was about to call for Carson to hurry up, but he came rushing back in at that moment.

"You'll be feeling better in a minute, Major," Carson said, as he injected a clear liquid into the IV port.

Elizabeth felt Sheppard's fingers grow lax in her grip as his entire body relaxed into the mattress. She moved closer and leaned in, watching as his eyes fluttered open again and this time they weren't glazed with pain. "How do you feel?" she asked.

John looked at Weir, then turned to look at Beckett. He blinked a few times then turned back to Weir and replied, "Confused."

"I'll bet," Elizabeth said softly. "Do you remember what happened?"

"I need to talk to Avitus," John whispered, and as he spoke his eyes fluttered closed.

Elizabeth watched him fight to open them. She looked at Beckett.

Carson squeezed Sheppard's shoulder. "Rest now, Major," he said firmly. "When you wake up again we'll send Avitus in to see you."

John said nothing. He was asleep.

Elizabeth felt a moment of panic at how still Sheppard was. She looked at Beckett. "Carson?"

"He's fine...just sleeping," Carson assured her. He met Weir's worried gaze. "I gave him something to help him rest."

"Is that wise?"

Carson shrugged. "Maybe not, but the Major just woke up from a coma. I don't think he's ready to deal with what's happened yet. I'll be monitoring him closely. I'll take good care of him."

Elizabeth knew he would. "Call me when he wakes up again," she ordered. Then she laid Sheppard's hand back on the bed before exiting the room.

oOo

John felt uncomfortable in his own skin. He remembered everything that had happened to him. He even, vaguely, remembered Rodney being there. At least, he remembered hearing Rodney's voice. That had been comforting somehow. The moment he woke up again, John knew something had changed. He had changed. His head still ached, but Beckett had given him something to dull the pain, but it felt as if his brain had swollen and was now too big to fit into his skull. Thoughts and ideas and voices weaved in and out of his mind. Memories that were his but not his. Thoughts that made sense yet seemed foreign. Voices that were familiar, yet not. And that was not the only thing that felt different. John felt this strange _hum_ beneath his skin. Like a sense of power, vibrating deep inside him, waiting to be unleashed. It scared the hell out of him.

"Major."

John turned his head and was surprised to see Avitus standing next to the bed. He hadn't heard anyone approaching. "What happened to me?" John demanded, because he knew that Avitus would have the answers to all of his questions.

A slow smile curved the Ancient's thin lips. "You have become what you were meant to be," he said quietly. "Atlantis recognized you from the moment you stepped through the gate, major. She welcomed you home."

"What the hell are you talking about?" John hissed, and he struggled to sit up, ignoring the throbbing in his temples and the sudden wave of dizziness that made him grip the bed rail hard.

"You know the truth, major," Avitus countered. "You are what we would have become had the Wraith not prevented it."

John panted through another wave of dizziness and gave up, settling back against the pillows. He closed his eyes and the bile that had clogged in his throat slid away. He swallowed hard then said, "What have you done to me?"

Avitus sighed. "Chaya showed you the truth, major. Do not fear it."

"I don't' want this," John whispered. He tapped a fingertip against his forehead. "You're wrong about me. I'm an Air Force major from Earth, not the second coming of your race!"

"You can deny the truth all you like," Avitus allowed. "But it will not change it."

John knew that, but he couldn't shake the fear, or the anger that burned deep inside him. The fear of this, of what he had become, shook him to his core. "I'm tired," he whispered.

Avitus seemed relieved and nodded. "We will talk later. When you are ready."

"That would be never," John shot back, then he listened as Avitus walked away. And when sleep pulled him into swirling darkness, John embraced it. In this moment he craved sweet oblivion.

oOo

Three days after waking up from his coma, John was on his feet and out of the infirmary. Beckett wasn't happy about it but John turned a deaf ear to his protests. He knew he was strong enough to leave. Avitus told him he hadn't really been ill, he had simply been _adjusting_, and that now he was stronger and healthier than ever. And other than a slight headache that didn't seem to want to leave him, John did feel better. A lot better. And he knew it was time to face the music, so to speak.

To that end, Doctor Weir had called a briefing. She, Doctor Beckett, McKay, Teyla, Avitus and John would be in attendance. And everyone was already in place around the conference table when John entered the room. He felt all eyes upon him as he moved to his usual seat at the narrow end of the table.

To his surprise he found a plateful of muffins. John looked at Teyla, who nodded at him, and he knew that they were the Athosian version of blueberry muffins that he liked so much. John mouthed a _thank you_ at Teyla and was warmed by her smile. It was something that felt normal and he embraced it.

"You should eat one of those, Major," Carson spoke up, pointing to the muffins. "You need to gain about ten pounds back and those muffins are packed with calories."

"I'll eat one later," John said firmly, giving Beckett the evil eye. The man never let up about his weight, and hadn't since John had stepped foot in Atlantis.

Elizabeth called the meeting into order. "First things first, major," she said, as she locked eyes with him from across the length of the table. "Can you tell us how you're feeling?"

John held her gaze. This was the moment of truth for them all. "You mean as in - do I feel different?" At her nod he sighed then scrubbed a hand through his hair, making it stand up further on end. "Actually...I think maybe I should back up and start at the beginning."

"The beginning?" Rodney echoed.

"Yeah...the beginning," John stated, glancing over at McKay. "Back to when all of this _Ancient thing_ started."

Elizabeth frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

John wondered for a moment if maybe making his confession was the wrong thing to do, but then he realized that everyone had a right to know. What had happened to him would affect them all. So he sighed then he began his tale. "When we stepped through the gate into Atlantis, I felt something."

"Felt what?" Rodney interjected, his tone of voice revealing both impatience and curiosity.

"Like this...hum," John replied, although that wasn't a true description.

Avitus was smiling. "You felt the city," he said softly.

John turned to look at him. "Yes. I even asked Doctor Beckett about it. If he felt anything and he told me no." John now focused on the doctor.

Carson frowned then nodded. "Aye...I remember you asking me that and thinking it was odd at the time."

"Go on, major," Elizabeth interjected. "What else?"

"Nothing specific," John continued. "At least, nothing I recognized at the time. I just felt very connected to the city. I figured everyone with the gene felt the same way, so I didn't question it then. And I probably wouldn't have questioned it at all if it hadn't been for what happened with Chaya." John felt, more than heard, the silence that filled the room.

Then Rodney shattered it. "What do you mean? What happened with Chaya?"

John wasn't sure how to explain this, but he gave it a shot. "When I followed her back to Proculus we...um...we shared." He really couldn't think of a better word for what had happened. In retrospect he wished he had never gone back. But that was the past and John had to deal with the here and now and how it affected the future. His future. And the future of Atlantis. Because he knew he was directly linked to the city now.

"Sharing?" It was Teyla who spoke up now.

"Yes." John stared down at his hands, fingers clasped together on the table top, as he continued. "We shared of each other, I guess is the best way to explain it. She showed me who and what she was, and she saw the same in me. And ever since then, things changed for me. It was as if by sharing with Chaya, I suddenly became super sensitized to anything Ancient related."

Rodney looked disgruntled as he spat out, "You had glowy sex."

John flushed and shot him a look of anger. "It's not like that. It's not a physical thing."

"They cannot understand, Major," Avitus interjected. "And it is not for them to understand." He looked at everyone in the room before announcing, "In essence, what Chaya did was to awaken that which was dormant in the major. And in doing so she allowed him to finally connect with Atlantis in the way he was meant to do."

"Why didn't you mention this before, John?" Elizabeth asked, and her eyes were sharp with anger held in check.

John didn't blame her for being angry. He was angry at himself. He had allowed himself to believe in Chaya but not for the reasons Rodney had believed. It hadn't been about lust or playing Captain Kirk. The moment John had laid eyes on Chaya he had felt a bond with her that he couldn't explain and, at the time, he hadn't cared what it meant. He had simply wanted to be with her.

"I'm sorry," John replied, as he made eye contact with Weir. "I should have told you but it felt so private. It was something personal and, at the time, I didn't think it had anything to do with Atlantis. If I had believed myself to be compromised in anyway I would have told you."

Elizabeth nodded. "I believe you would have. So...you're saying that after you shared with Chaya, everything changed?"

"Pretty much. But it was a slow and subtle change, at least at first." John unclasped his hands and lifted one so he could rub his forehead with his fingertips. His headache was coming back full force. 

"Maybe we should cut this short and let the Major rest," Carson spoke up, his eyes on Sheppard.

John was the one to shake his head. "No...I'm fine. I'd rather get this over with."

Rodney was tense in his chair, his body nearly vibrating with anger. "So what else haven't you told us, Major?" he demanded.

It was tempting to reply with a sarcastic remark, but John bit his tongue. In a way he couldn't blame Rodney for being pissed at him. "I started having dreams," John continued. "But they got worse in the past few weeks. Ever since my suicide run and the big save."

"Why do you think that is?" Elizabeth asked, with genuine curiosity.

"I don't know," John replied, honestly. And he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Rodney was drumming his fingertips on the table top in a nervous rhythm. "I was right," he said to no one in particular.

Elizabeth heard him. "Right about what?" she prompted.

"My theory that Major Sheppard beamed himself over to the Wraith ship during his suicide run," Rodney explained. "I had been theorizing that like the Jumper used to send your other self back in time...well...you know what I mean." Rodney waved an impatient hand at Weir. "Anyway...I had figured that the jumper the Major used had that capability which, since it blew up, I couldn't prove my theory. Now I realize it wasn't the jumper, it was Sheppard who had the ability to transport himself."

"That would be correct, Doctor McKay," Avitus responded.

John didn't want to hear this. He knew he had to face reality, but he wanted to postpone it, if only for a little while. "I'm going to lie down for a while," he said abruptly, as he pushed himself up to his feet. Then before anyone could protest, John was out the door. He stepped into the nearest transporter and made it to his room. Once inside he made sure the door slid shut and locked it, then he let his back hit the wall as he slid down to the floor and buried his face in his hands.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Teyla twirled the stick, and stepped lightly around Sheppard. "You need to concentrate," she scolded.

John shifted, to compensate for her move, and held his two sticks slightly apart, and ready. "I am concentrating," he gritted, forearm still smarting from her earlier blow.

She stepped forward, thrusting a stick against his, and knocking it from his hand. She stepped back. "No, you are not."

Sheppard sighed, and bent to pick up his lost weapon, keeping a wary eye on her, not trusting she wouldn't smack him again when he wasn't looking. It'd serve him right. He wasn't concentrating. His mind was too preoccupied by other things. "Maybe this isn't a good time," he said, heading to the bench.

She followed him over, and picked up the towels, tossing one to him. "I find that when I am troubled, I can best focus on the problem after physical exercise." She was looking at him steadily, giving him an opening.

John knew she was curious. Everyone was curious, that was the problem. He'd gone from being Major Sheppard to some kind of genetic freak. He'd even overheard one rumor that had him with x-ray vision, and all the girls had giggled nervously, and fallen silent, faces red, when he'd coughed quietly, letting them know he was standing right there.

He finished wiping his face, and draped the towel around his neck. "People are avoiding me," he admitted. "And when they don't," Sheppard paused. When they didn't, they looked at him like he could cause their death with a simple thought, or disappear in a poof of white smoke.

"They look at you like you were a stranger to them," she said for him.

"Yes," exclaimed John. "Exactly."

She sat on the bench, and shoved her towel in the bag, before meeting his gaze. "Give them time, Major," she said gently. "The unknown is often frightening."

"I know," affirmed Sheppard. "Believe me, I know. I'm the one affected by it, and I'm terrified." He didn't wonder at admitting his fear to Teyla. Since the time he'd met her, he'd sensed in her a person that he could open up to, and be honest. He didn't feel the need to hold tight his secrets around her.

"You are still you," Teyla said.

John looked at her, and smiled. She was telling him something he needed to hear. "Am I?" he asked, not as sure of it as she was.

She frowned at his response, and said, "What would make you believe you are different?"

"Take out your sticks," said John. He pulled off his towel, and tossed it to the bench, stepping out into the room, and spinning the fighting sticks, while Teyla got into position.

As soon as she nodded she was ready, it started. He lunged, and she parried…he stepped to the side, and whirled a stick, turning in tune, and coming behind her, he took her down.

She got to her feet, accepting his helping hand, and prepared for another round. They did round after round, and always the same result. Sheppard seemed to know her moves before she made them. She lost every single time.

"You were not trying before," she observed, breathing heavily. She'd finally stopped, and stayed down. A fine sheen of sweat covered her body.

"No, I wasn't."

"What else?" she asked, gingerly getting to her feet.

Sheppard shrugged. "I'm not sure. That's what scares me the most."

Teyla went through the motions of repacking her bag, and toweling off the new layer of perspiration, staying silent. John was uneasy, wondering if he shouldn't have let go. Maybe he should've waited, and said something later.

Finally, she looked at him. "Major, who you are is not measured by how many times you can best me with the fighting sticks. Remember that," she said, before leaving him standing on the mat.

oOo

Sheppard stopped off at his room for a quick shower. As he was heading out the door, his intention to find McKay, he ran into the last person he wanted to see – Avitus.

"Go away," said Sheppard, pushing past the Ancient.

Avitus trailed after John, catching up and matching his stride. "We need to talk, Major Sheppard."

John didn't look at him, just kept walking. "I don't want to talk to you," he said.

Avitus was the reason he was like this. He'd stayed away from that console, knowing it was dangerous. He should've listened to his instincts and never touched it, and now it was too late. Now he was some…freak.

"You are not a…freak, John."

That brought John to a stop. "You read my mind!" accused Sheppard.

"Not intentionally," soothed Avitus. "The emotion was…strong."

Sheppard fixed Avitus with a steely look. He didn't trust this Ancient; he hadn't from the moment he set eyes on him. "Look, I don't have anything to say to you," he said, stabbing his finger towards the old man's chest. "Before, or after, the change in my status as…freak."

"Then humor me, because I have a lot to say to you," Avitus said.

Something in the way he said it made John keep from walking away. He didn't like it, but he'd let Avitus have his say. "Then do it," said John.

Avitus looked like he wanted to ask if they could go somewhere else, but thought better of it. "Major, what would you say if I told you that you are the key to erasing the Wraith out of existence?" he said eagerly.

John could see the truth written in Avitus's eyes, this wasn't some trick. But how could he do that? "I'd say your nuts," said John honestly. He pulled back to allow a person to pass by. The technician looked curiously at the two, but didn't stop.

Avitus watched the woman go, and once she was out of earshot, continued, "I told you that you were the next step for my people; tell me you do not already feel the power simmering in your blood?"

John stared at him stonily. He didn't want to confirm it, but the truth was there. He did, and it scared the hell out of him. Avitus was confirming what he'd begun to suspect. What would happen if he got angry with someone, and thought something, only to have it happen to the unsuspecting person? He knew he wasn't the only one thinking it. The furtive looks convinced him of that.

"It would not happen, Major," Avitus answered his unspoken thought. "It must be a conscious decision."

"Would you stop doing that," snapped John. "Stay out of my head!"

"Stop projecting," Avitus rounded back, surprising John, because the old man had always remained calm, and unflustered.

Sheppard rubbed at the ache building in his forehead. "I can't," he admitted. This wasn't going like he planned. He didn't want to seem like he was asking Avitus for help, but then again, maybe he needed it. He didn't know what this power was, what it could do, or what kind of danger he posed to everyone.

"Let me teach you," said Avitus, and he stepped closer. "John, there is so much for you, if you'd only open your mind."

Sheppard snorted. "That's what got me into this mess," he cracked, and there was an edge of hysteria in John's voice.

"I can help you," Avitus continued, sensing a weakness in John's defense.

But John was already shaking his head, and pushing back into the corridor, heading away from Avitus. He didn't trust the Ancient, and despite the offer of help, one that he wanted desperately to take, he couldn't trust him, not even for that.

"Major! With your help, we could destroy the Wraith home world," Avitus called after him. "Don't walk away from this! Too many lives depend on you following through with your destiny!" The Ancients' voice rose as John kept walking. "You are the key, John! The key!"

But John kept walking…

oOo

Sheppard's head was pounding. He hated to go back to the infirmary after recently spending more time than he was comfortable with there, but if he didn't get some relief soon, he was liable to bang his head against something just to create a different kind of ache.

"Major! Wait up," called McKay.

John winced. He'd been avoiding Rodney. "What do you want, McKay?" he asked tiredly.

"Avitus asked me to talk to you," McKay began. "He said he can help, but you're being too stubborn to listen."

Sheppard kept walking, but he glared at the hallway ahead. Almost to the infirmary, which was a good thing, because if his headache increased any more, he was liable to throw up, and he'd make sure he did it all over McKay.

"He did, huh?"

McKay realized maybe he shouldn't have repeated the stubborn part. "Major, this is huge, surely you can realize that," he said. "Think of all the things you can show us now."

"Won't," said Sheppard. He said a mental thank you as he realized he'd made it to the infirmary. The doors whushed open, and he stepped in, automatically scanning for Beckett. He knew where the Doctor was, and sure enough, Carson was standing right where he'd thought.

McKay followed him in, not giving up. "You know, I never took you for a scaredy cat," he jabbed.

That did it. Sheppard stopped, and turned on McKay. "I am not scared," he denied, lying.

"Yes, you are," McKay said softly. He looked to the right of Sheppard, "Carson, appears you've got a patient, maybe you can talk some sense into him," he snapped, and after giving Sheppard a parting look of disgust, he stormed out the doors.

Beckett stood, gaping. "What was that about?" he asked.

"Difference of opinion," replied Sheppard. "Got anything for a headache, Doc?"

Beckett nodded, and pulled a bottle off a shelf. He came over to Sheppard and handed it to him. "I know I shouldn't, but somehow I think you're going to need these. If it gets worse, I want to see you, is that clear?" stressed Beckett.

John was surprised, and relieved that Beckett was giving him enough for a while. Maybe Carson had accepted that short of helping him manage the pain, there wasn't a lot that could be done. "Got it," he said.

Now that John had one issue dealt with, it was time to hit something else. He waved thanks to Beckett, and headed for the one place he could find peace.

oOo

Sheppard took a bite of muffin, and read the screen, pausing occasionally to scroll to the next page of text. He was so engrossed in the reading that he didn't hear McKay come in.

Rodney leaned over Sheppard, reading over his shoulder, and he stared at the screen puzzled. "If you needed help, all you had to do was ask," he said.

"Jesus, McKay!" John jumped in his seat, startled. "Don't do that," exclaimed John. He purposefully turned just enough so that he blocked the screen with his back. "What did you need?" he asked.

McKay picked up one of the muffins, ignoring Sheppard's dirty look. He took a bite, and motioned to the screen. "I was going to talk to you again about Avitus," he chewed and tried to talk clearly. "But I'll help you translate that if you need me to."

"Translate what?" asked John, wishing McKay would just take the muffin, and leave.

McKay swallowed, and stuck the hand with the muffin out again at the screen. "That."

John turned, and looked at the screen, seeing the letters dotted across the screen in plain English. "That's not Ancient," he said.

"Read the first line," McKay said. He was watching Sheppard carefully.

Sheppard rolled his eyes, and protested, "McKay…"

"Just shut up and do it," ordered Rodney.

Sheppard glared for a beat, but turned his head to look at the screen and began reading, "The individual shall only do that which is allowed by the provinces of -"

"Stop," whispered McKay.

John looked away from the words, and noticed McKay looked kind of pale. "What's with you?"

"That's not English, Major," said McKay. "That's Ancient."


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

John felt himself grow pale. He jumped up, backing away, shaking his head at Rodney. "No!" he protested, his eyes flickering to the computer screen. "It's in English!"

Rodney took a shaky breath then whispered, "No, Major. That's Ancient text."

Why he was surprised by this, John didn't know. He realized he shouldn't be, but he was. He felt his stomach twist into knots. He felt the throbbing ache in his head become sledgehammer blows against his skull. Then his stomached clenched, seizing up, and John clamped a hand over his mouth. He must have turned green, because suddenly McKay was there with a garbage can, holding it steady as John lost the contents of his stomach. He puked until he suffered through dry heaves and his body started shuddering hard from the convulsive gagging. Once he finally - blessedly - stopped, John realized he was sitting on the floor and that Rodney was supporting him.

Lifting a shaking hand to his face, John realized he felt dizzy from the pain in his head and that his skin was cold and slick with sweat. Then his arm felt too heavy to hold up. He felt weak and nauseous again and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a dark hole where he could curl up and hide away.

Apparently he floated in and out of consciousness, because he was more aware of the images inside his head that seemed so real, than the reality of Rodney's solid bulk against him. John drifted through his dream world, knowing that they were more than his own memories, and yet familiar enough to make him ache with sadness, wonder and disbelief.

Faces and places flashed by in quicksilver eye blinks. Then he saw something that made him hold his breath so that he could cling to it longer. Another world that was vast and stark and within it a city to rival Atlantis in ways John had yet to understand. With a 'slap in your face' kind of clarity, he suddenly realized what it was he was seeing. The Wraith homeworld. John wanted to imprint it into his memory but it faded away, unraveling from his thoughts like a loose bit of yarn, tugged too hard in a homemade sweater. John felt his consciousness fading with it as he spiraled into suffocating darkness.

oOo

Even before he opened his eyes, John knew where he was and that he wasn't alone. So he forced his eyes open, blinked, and the infirmary walls came into view. Turned his head a bit and Weir was there, smiling at him. "Hey," John said softly, then he coughed from the dryness in his throat.

Elizabeth reached for the cup of water on the bed stand and held it out. With her free hand she helped Sheppard sit up and take a few sips. Then she eased him back down and put the glass back on the table. "Better?"

"Better. Thank you." John really wasn't sure what else to say.

"How do you feel?" Elizabeth queried.

John was wondering that himself, but responded instinctively. "Peachy, can I go now?"

Elizabeth let her lips curve in a half smile, then shook her head. "Now that you're awake, Beckett needs to examine you."

"Okay." John knew it wouldn't do any good to argue. "So...how long have I been here?" He figured not long since he still felt tired and achy and vaguely nauseous. His headache was better though, so he figured Beckett had some good drugs pumping through the IV he just now realized was taped to the back of his left hand.

"It's been about twelve hours," Elizabeth replied, after a quick glance at her watch.

That surprised John. "That long?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Guess you were tired."

"I was freaked." John wasn't going to lie about it.

"Rodney told me about the Ancient text."

John had figured he would have. "Just another parlor trick."

Elizabeth moved a step closer, her eyes mirroring the concern she was feeling for him. "I spoke with Avitus as well. John...I think you should let him help you."

"I don't trust him." John wasn't going to lie about it. He just wished he could pin point _why_ he didn't trust the guy. It went beyond the fact that John felt as if Avitus had tricked him into bonding with Atlantis. It was more than that.

"It won't hurt to just listen to him," Elizabeth said gently.

John sighed and plucked at the blankets. "I guess not." He was too tired to argue a moot point.

As if on cue, Carson bustled into the room. He smiled at Sheppard as he reached him and began taking his vitals. "How are you feeling, Major?"

"Better. Can I get out of here?" John wanted to hide out in his room for a while.

"Not yet," Carson countered. "I want to get another bag of fluids in you first. You're a wee bit dehydrated. After that we'll feed you and if you can keep it down I'll let you go to your room. But I want you on bed rest for twenty-four hours."

John made a face at that but nodded. Beckett couldn't see through the walls and so long as he was in his room for the day, he could pretty much do what he wanted. "Fine."

Carson narrowed his gaze at Sheppard then asked, "How's the headache?"

"Doable." And John was sincere. Relieved too.

"I'll speak with you later, Major," Elizabeth interjected. She smiled at him then was gone.

Carson fussed with the blankets a moment, and checked the IV again. Then he was smiling too. "Rest a bit more then I'll bring you something to eat.

John blinked at him. "I have to pee."

"I'll get the urinal."

"No way, jose. Bathroom." About that John was adamant. He tossed back the covers and slid his legs over the side of the bed.

Carson sighed. "Fine, but I'm going with you. You're gonna be a bit weak."

John didn't argue the point. It would be hard to do so effectively given the fact he just stood up and his knees buckled. John cursed and let Beckett support his weight for a moment. Then he shrugged the doctor off, gripped his IV stand and headed for the bathroom. By the time he was done, John was glad to be back in bed. He even let Beckett fuss with the blankets as he closed his eyes and slid into slumber.

oOo

He was finally free. John felt much better after another four hours of sleep, a decent meal and now a long hot shower. In his room. He stayed under the spray for a long time, letting the water wash away any residual aches and sleepiness. Then he got out and pulled on jeans and a tee shirt, and tugged on socks since he wasn't planning on leaving his room. Beckett had reminded John that he was confined here for the next 24 hours and that he would be checking up on him periodically. And John knew the doctor would do just that, popping in himself, without warning, or sending one of his nurses. He had done that a couple of times in the past. So John would stay put. For now. He would relax and try and read and maybe even forget about being a freak for just one day.

But that was not to be. Even before the knock sounded on the door, John knew who was there. He_ thought_ the door open and wasn't the least bit surprised when Avitus stepped inside. John rose from the bed and stared at him. "Doctor Weir thinks I should listen to you."

"I can help you, Major," Avitus allowed, as he moved closer and folded his hands together. "First off, let me say that you are not a freak. You are what you were born to be. You are human, Major...but gifted in a way that other's can only dream about. And even their dreams would fall quite short of the reality. You are the key to the future of humankind. And not just in this galaxy, but you can save your world as well."

"Somehow...this isn't helping," John snapped back. "I don't' want to be the key. This was just some dumb fluke!" At least that's what he wanted it to be. Not for the first time, John wished that Rodney had been born with this damn gene instead. It would have made them both much happier.

Avitus looked pained for a moment, but he smoothed out his features and smiled gently. "No, Major. The city came awake for you. She has been waiting for you to come home. From the moment you arrived she has been...bonding...with you. Every time you connect with her, in any way, she has been preparing you."

John did not like the sound of that. "You mean she's been downloading information."

"In a sense," Avitus allowed. "But it is more an awakening of that which is within you."

"I don't want this." John began to pace, stepping around Avitus to do so. "I can't do this." He pressed his palms to his temples. His headache was back full force. But that didn't stop him from pacing. He felt the need to be in motion.

Avitus moved to block his way, holding fast even when Sheppard stilled and glared at him. "Let me show you what you fear, so that you may come to understand it."

John frowned. "Show me?" he echoed.

"Sharing," Avitus explained.

"Like what I did with Chaya." John remembered that and shuddered. At the time it had been amazing, but now he realized that she had been enthralled with him because of what he was, not because of who.

Avitus took a step closer. "Yes, Major. Just like that. And in doing so I will be able to show you how to use that which you have acquired. You will understand what it is and what it means and then you will no longer fear it."

John opened his mouth to refuse, but found himself agreeing. He was tired of being afraid. Besides which, knowledge was power and maybe he wouldn't have to worry about inadvertently hurting someone. "Okay...let's do this."

"Come sit." Avitus guided John over to the bed and sat down beside him. Then he reached out and gripped John's forearms.

"Close my eyes?" John asked, just to ask.

Avitus nodded. "Yes."

So John closed his eyes and felt himself surrounded by a bright warmth. Felt it wrap around him and it was familiar and comforting in a strange way. And then he was jolted into a vision of Atlantis. The city in all her past glory. He knew that Avitus was showing him what was and what could be again. John realized, as he traversed through the city, slipping inside her very soul, that she had been teaching him and that he had resisted that knowledge. She had been teaching him how to 'talk' to her. A part of John now regretted not wanting to listen.

Subconsciously the knowledge had always been there, but John hadn't been ready, or willing, to tap into it. But now he knew how to do so and he found himself wanting to do so. But in this moment alarms sounded, yanking John out of the sharing. He found himself jarred back into his own reality and he broke away from Avitus to clutch his head.

It took a moment for John to work past the dizziness and pain so that he could recognize the alarms for what they were. Something was going on. He ignored Avitus and stuffed his feet into his unlaced boots, then he was out the door and running for the nearest transporter. Then John was racing to the gateroom, and he made it to the steps then froze. Bates's team had stepped through the gate and they were not alone. They had a prisoner with them. A Wraith.

John moved closer. The Wraith was cuffed and he was supported by two marines. He looked barely conscious, but John knew he was awake. He climbed the steps and walked towards the Wraith. Drawn to him like a magnet.

Elizabeth spotted Sheppard and called to the marines. "Stop him!" The major was getting too close and he wasn't even supposed to be here. He was supposed to be resting in his room.

John felt the presence of others. Felt them moving closer and with a simple flicker of thought, he kept them at bay. He was focused only on the Wraith. 

The Wraith lifted his head and his eyes went wide as he spotted the human. "You are the one," he hissed.

John did not reply. He took one more step closer and then there was a blinding flash of white. In his head he saw the image of the Wraith home world. He saw the city and then he was inside it. He saw the human, all of them cocooned. Row upon endless row of them. And the children. Some so small and fragile and John felt anger at this. The rage was red hot and glowing inside him and he lashed out, feeling the heat of it surround him.

Rodney had joined Elizabeth. He stood beside her, watching as Sheppard confronted the Wraith. Watched the marines try to move to stop the major, but they were held back somehow. Then Sheppard simply stared at the Wraith until suddenly he seemed to glow. A white misty light flowed around him and Rodney found himself moving. Running towards Sheppard. There was a sudden flash of blinding light as he reached them, making Rodney put up a hand to shield his eyes, and when it faded he saw that the Wraith was on the floor, eyes open and staring at nothing. Dead. Rodney then looked at Sheppard and the major was crumpling and Rodney managed to catch him. 

Elizabeth called for a med team then moved towards the major. She sensed a presence and turned to see Avitus standing there. He was looking at the major and smiling.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten 

Elizabeth hesitated at the console. She knew the call had to be made, but she wasn't sure she wanted to open this can of worms. The changes in Sheppard were frightening. Yes, on one level, he was still Major John Sheppard, the man she'd come to respect and care for…but on the other, he was a powerful weapon, and that's the part that was behind this call.

General O'Neill had to be told what was happening. Earth had been out searching the stars for almost a decade looking for exactly what Sheppard had been turned into; a weapon against Earth's enemies. What she'd witnessed in the gateroom fit that bill entirely too well for her comfort.

She sighed, and signaled the technician she was ready. "Contact the SGC, and get me General O'Neill," she ordered, wishing there was some other way.

oOo

John was dreaming. He was back on the Wraith homeworld, but this time, he was in the room with the human children. He spun violently in circles, and saw a Wraith enter, and in his hands he had a bug, and it was the same one that had latched onto him last year.

He watched in horrible fascination as the Wraith approached a male child, and pulled back the cocoon filaments far enough to allow the bug entry. It crawled rapidly in, and he saw the boy's eyes fly open in pain and shock when it attached itself to his neck. His mouth opened in a scream, and so did Sheppard's…

"Major!"

John's eyes snapped open, and he gasped for air. He quickly tried to gather his senses, realizing he was back in the infirmary. A dream, but it wasn't, and he knew it. He was seeing what was actually happening, and it made him sick with dread. He'd wondered why they hadn't seen any evidence of Wraith reproduction. It was because they didn't. Like a parasite, they were created by taking over a host, but not in the same way as the Goa'uld McKay had told him about.

"Are you all right?" asked a concerned Teyla.

He blinked a few times, trying to erase the pictures from his mind, but they stubbornly refused to leave. "No," he said shakily. "I'm not." He added silently, _and I never will be_.

Beckett was there before they could say more, and he was wearing a face painted with exhaustion. "Major, ye're wearing me out, Son."

John felt a pang of regret, because he knew this had to be wearing everyone out, not just the Doctor. Every since Chaya, his body just wasn't working right, and now the added burden of the recent changes; it was overloading his system. Whatever he'd done to that Wraith – "The Wraith?" he asked, wondering if he'd killed it. He thought he had, but he wasn't entirely sure.

"Dead," confirmed Beckett. "And you aren't far behind if you don't let that body of yours recuperate!" he remonstrated.

"I'm trying," declared John, feeling a little angry that he was being lectured when it wasn't his fault.

Beckett's eyes softened. "I know you are." Carson turned to Teyla saying, "Why don't you get something eat? I'll sit with the Major a bit."

Teyla nodded thankfully, reaching out and touching Sheppard lightly on his hand. "Get some rest," she said.

Sheppard moved his head slightly. "I will."

He watched her leave, before turning back to Carson. "The truth, Doc, is this killing me?"

He'd felt weak ever since he'd woken from his coma, and he'd been having problems eating and keeping hydrated. He often felt sick, and his head pounded.

Beckett shook his head, pulling up a chair and sitting. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "I don't think so, but it's definitely not been easy on you physically." He crossed his legs, and regarded the man in the bed with an assessing eye. "If I knew more about what was going on, I could do more, but my gut tells me your physiology has changed. Your body's trying to adjust, but you aren't going along with it."

"Like what?" asked Sheppard, confused.

"Drink more, eat more, rest more," Carson reeled off the three things Sheppard was lacking. "Every time you've been back here, those three are the root of the problem. My guess – you're body needs more now, and you've got to start realizing that."

"So, I'm in overdrive?" Sheppard said, his mouth twitching in a rare ghost of a smile.

"Basically, aye, think of a 'souped up' race car," confirmed Beckett, returning the easy grin.

Sheppard mused over that, it made sense. He could feel the change in his blood. It was like feeling a low level static shock humming along his skin. He stretched, and felt the tug of the IV needle.

"Eat, drink and be merry," joked Sheppard, not feeling very merry at the moment.

"And have lots of sex," said McKay, walking in on the pair. He strode over, and grinned at John. "Sorry, couldn't resist."

"Because you have sex never," said Sheppard, smiling back. There was an easier feel between the two of them right now, and Sheppard wondered at the reason.

"I have sex all the time," protested McKay. He folded his arms, and lifted his chin. "Its just some people believe in the old adage of never kiss and tell."

Beckett snorted, earning a glowering scowl from Rodney.

Sheppard enjoyed the break from all the seriousness that had chased him wherever he'd gone of late, and it was especially appreciated after the debacle with the Wraith prisoner.

McKay and Beckett started going on about who was having sex in an expedition where the women were limited, and somewhere along that vein, Sheppard faded out, sliding into an easier sleep…

oOo

The next day, Beckett deemed Sheppard fit for release, and he made a quick escape. He'd figured out that McKay and Carson had stayed up for a while, and talked…which translated into McKay turning into a watchdog to make sure he did those three things that Beckett had ordered.

The ironic thing was, Sheppard had every intention of doing it. He was tired of landing in the infirmary, and if he'd known that was what he should've been doing, he would've done it.

He passed by the console room, and was surprised, and not pleased to see Avitus coming out. He wondered if he could get by without being seen, but the old man's head was already coming up, and –

"Major Sheppard!" beamed the Ancient.

No on the escaping then, he sighed, and said "Avitus" evenly.

"Feeling better?" asked Avitus.

"Better is relative," admitted Sheppard. "Essentially, yes."

The old man's eye twinkled. "I was hoping to find you. Our lesson was interrupted -"

"Maybe that's not such a bad thing," replied Sheppard. He remembered the intensity; the emotion…learning about her…the city was connected to him. The city was the low level humming through his veins, and even now he was disconcerted by the revelation. It seemed like every time he was beginning to cope, something new was thrown his way.

The twinkle fell. "But it is a bad thing," Avitus said. "There is much to do, to prepare!"

Sheppard was taken aback by the change in Avitus's demeanor. "And what would that be?" he asked. He'd sensed something underneath the Ancients exterior from the beginning, and now he wondered if the old man was letting something slip.

"Defeating the Wraith," said Avitus.

Sheppard frowned. He'd said that before. "Why do you keep going on about that? One man, no matter how powerful, can't defeat an entire race."

Avitus smiled sadly. "Then you've not fully realized your potential yet."

He started walking by Sheppard, but John thrust out a hand stopping him. "What do you mean?" he asked roughly.

Avitus paused, considering John. Sheppard wasn't sure if the Ancient was trying to decide how much to tell him, or something more sinister. He pulled his hand off Avitus's arm. "Please," he offered grudgingly, after a moment.

The keen eyes bored into John. "I'm not certain you are ready," Avitus said slowly. "But if you are willing, let us return to the console room. It is time you meet _her_."

John had a thrill of anticipation surge through at the thought. He knew what Avitus meant. So far, he'd only felt the city, felt _her_, in the background like a fan always spinning lazily against the heat. But the console, that was a different thing entirely, and he knew that would be something dangerous, but amazing at the same time.

He hesitated, just for a moment, suspended in the fear of what it might do. He looked at the Ancient, and saw the hope. For whatever reason, Avitus was convinced he was the key to defeating the Wraith.

He walked in, stepping past the old man. "Fine," gritted Sheppard. It was time to take the final step.

An eerie sense of déjà vu struck, as he recalled the night he'd come here for much the same reason. He was going to put his demons to rest, not realizing it was going to rewrite the meaning of demon on his very soul. Not that he considered himself a demon…rather the demons were in his mind.

He stood in front, and stared at the console. He brought his hand up, and flashed a last look at Avitus. He smiled encouragingly, "It is time, Major."

John nodded. It was. He placed his palm on the console and felt a shiver of recognition touch through his body, and tease his mind, like a fish nibbling at a baited hook, and then with a suddenness that took his breathe away, the fish grabbed the hook and ran.

He didn't know if he was living, or breathing, or dying and seeing. He was lost in a myriad of confusing and conflicting lines of information. He knew the location of every single member of the expedition all at once, and knew how high above the ocean floor Atlantis was floating. He felt the damaged sections, and the sadness the loss of those portions of the city caused her.

He felt her happiness at his being, and her loneliness while she had spent an eternity waiting. She loved, and lost, and loved again, and they were all her children…

…and then a startling discovery. She didn't trust Avitus! She was warning him; her familiar alarms ringing inside his head, she spoke to him.

Then the link was broken, and Avitus had John's hand in his own, holding it off the console. He came out of it, like waking from a dream. "Wow," said Sheppard. Nothing he said would be adequate.

"You see," said Avitus softly. "It is you, and you must save her."

"She's not in danger," said Sheppard calmly.

"Not now, but she will!" stressed Avitus. He released Sheppard's hand and stood back. "The Wraith will come back. They'll mass another attack, and another - they will never give up, Major! You! You can rid the universe of that scourge!"

Sheppard watched him, trying to figure out what Avitus's plan was. "You had all this thought out from the beginning, didn't you?" he accused. "It wasn't a fluke that McKay found you on that planet."

"No, it wasn't," admitted Avitus. "It was only a matter of time before you figured that out. But that doesn't change the fact that _you_ are the _key_," Avitus said forcefully. "Major, my people have lived under the poisoned sky of the Wraith for centuries. We escaped, but our children -" Avitus thrust his hands out, pleading. "They remain, trapped and hunted; herded like cattle for the many. This must be stopped, and you are the only one who has the ability!"

"How did you know?" Sheppard wanted to hear how Avitus knew about him. How the old man knew that the city would react to him, change him, like it did.

Avitus pointed at the console. "The city told me," he answered simply.

But Sheppard remembered something the city had told him. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, trying to let Avitus believe he would help.

Avitus stared at him, a crafty smile drifting lazily across his face. "I do not think so, Major. I do not believe you are ready to hear my plan…not quite yet."

A surge of white hot heat soared through his mind. Atlantis whispered the truth, and John's face paled under the impact. "You want me to blow up their sun! You want it to produce a supernova -" he trailed off, his mind scrambling at the implications.

"It is the only way," said Avitus. He had lost the smile, and now appeared older, and more haggard. "It will wipe them out of the universe!"

"And all the humans; the children, on that planet as well!"

"They are already dead," he said.

"We can save them -" started John.

"No, we cannot," interrupted Avitus. "You're people cannot take on the fleet of Wraith. That is how they won, and make no mistake, they won, Major. Superior numbers, not superior technology."

Avitus continued, "They are insidious, reproducing by taking our own, and they live…they live; hit after hit after hit…no, one man cannot go in and expect to leave alive, not even you."

Sheppard stared, dumbfounded. He had known Avitus was dangerous, but this had surprised him. He couldn't do it, regardless of what Avitus thought he could do. He wanted to – hell, he didn't even know what he wanted to do anymore. Protect his people; save the city – beyond that, things weren't so black and white.

"Think about it, Major," said Avitus. "We can talk more later."

John watched Avitus leave. He was alone now, just him and Atlantis herself. He stared at the console, and slowly placed his hand back against the warm metal and glass display. And she talked –


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven 

His confrontation with Avitus, and his subsequent bonding with Atlantis left John feeling drained. He had retreated to his quarters, crawling into bed and pretty much passing out. He didn't rouse from slumber until a pounding at his door drug him out of the blissful darkness. Feeling groggy, John sat up and rubbed at his eyes. He thought the lights up to a dim glow then called out, "Who is it?"

"Santa Claus!" Rodney snapped back. "Now let me in!"

Heaving a sigh, John willed the door open. A moment later McKay was looming beside his bed. "What do you want?" John asked, as he reached for the bottle of water he had left on the nightstand the night before. He chugged it down and felt a bit better.

Rodney studied Sheppard for a long moment then said, "Do you know what time it is?"

"No." John blinked at his watch. "Seven o'clock." Which meant he had been asleep for about eight hours.

"Are you okay?"

John frowned at Rodney, wondering at the concern he saw in the other man's eyes. "I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?" As he spoke John threw off the covers and made to rise. He had to go like a bastard.

Rodney grunted. "Well...the fact that you've been asleep for almost twenty hours bothers me a bit. Teyla said she couldn't wake you."

"Teyla?" John was focused on that at first then it hit him what Rodney had just said. "Whoa...wait a minute. I've been out for twenty hours?" That explained why he had to pee so bad.

"Carson doesn't seem to be as worried as the rest of us," Rodney countered.

Which further confused John. "Hold on I have to go, then you can explain what I missed." John headed for the bathroom, relieved his bladder, splashed cold water on his face then returned to the other room. "What were saying about Carson?"

Rodney was sitting in the chair by the small desk in the corner. "Teyla was worried so she asked me if I had talked to you. Then I got worried so we went to Carson. He thinks you're just trying to catch up on lost sleep. Which we all know you can't make up for lost sleep so...I was worried. I mean...Teyla and I were worried." Rodney sighed. "Are you okay or not?"

"Probably not," John replied. But when Rodney's head shot up and his eyes went wide, John amended, "I'm fine...just still weirded out by what happened."

"Yeah...of course." Rodney rubbed a hand over his face. He looked tired. "So...what's it like anyway?"

John knew what he was asking. "I don't think I can describe it."

Rodney looked disappointed. "Wish it was me." He looked surprised to have said that.

"No...you don't!" John's tone was sharper than he had intended and he shook his head at the look of surprise on Rodney's face. "It's scary, okay? Too scary." John didn't know how else to explain it. "Look...I'm gonna shower then grab something to eat."

"Mind if I wait?"

That surprised John a little, but he shook his head. "I don't mind." He grabbed some clothes then headed into the bathroom again. He showered fast, got dressed, brushed his teeth, roughly finger combed his hair, and was ready to go. "So what's the special for today?" John asked, as he and Rodney headed for the nearest transporter.

Rodney was smiling. "Pancakes. The Athosians have this quick growing wheat substance that makes passable flour and Teyla gave the recipe to the cooks."

"Should be interesting," John said, and he was smiling back at Rodney. It felt good to smile again. To have a simple and meaningless conversation. He missed that more than he had realized.

"I just hope they have syrup," Rodney stated. Then he launched into a explanation of how Canadian maple syrup was far superior to anything else made.

John didn't argue the point. He was content to wallow in this tiny moment of normalcy.

oOo

John's days fell into a pattern. He slept more, ate more, made sure to drink tons of water, and worked out with Teyla. He wanted back out in the field. Every day he put aside a bit of time to spend with Avitus. John still didn't trust him, but he was learning from he Ancient, and that was beneficial to him. Plus John had always believed it was good to get to know the enemy, and that was how he saw Avitus. All the more so because Atlantis herself was afraid of the Ancient.

John was beginning to understand why. During the time spent with Avitus, the old man kept trying to convince John that his idea to form a supernova was the right thing to do. John played along for now, letting Avitus believe that he was becoming convinced of the same. But in reality, John didn't know what to do. 

So he focused instead on becoming strong again. His workouts with Teyla became an exercise in learning true focus and inner control. John was still afraid of his powers. Still afraid that something might happen and he would hurt someone. He still dreamed about how he had killed the Wraith and he would wake up shaking, body drenched in a cold sweat.

Beckett gave John another physical and he was stunned by his improvement. Just five days after his last collapse and John was deemed to be in perfect health. Which made John feel antsy. He was getting bored. He wanted to go back out in the field, but convincing Weir wasn't so easy.

John sat across from her in her office. "I'm ready to do my job, Doctor. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't be allowed to do so."

Elizabeth locked eyes with him across the desk. "You told me yourself you're afraid you can't control your new abilities, John. What if something happened out there and you lost control?"

"So you're going to keep me grounded forever?" John was out of his chair and in her face. "Look...if that's the case then send me back to Earth. Back to Antarctica. At least I'd still be flying!"

"It's not that simple and you know it."

Her softly spoken words took the wind out of John's sails and his anger faded. "I know that." He dropped back into his chair. "Listen...I have to do something, okay? I'm getting cabin fever being stuck here. Just let me go on a small mission. A milk run. Let me test the waters."

Elizabeth made a face then dropped her head into her hands for a moment. "It makes me nervous."

"I promise to be on my best behavior," John told her. He understood her fears. He was more afraid of what he had become than she could ever imagine. What she had seen him do was just the tip of the iceberg. His power was far greater than he was willing to let her know. John wasn't ready to accept it in himself. So he was struggling to be as normal as possible, if only for a little while. "Just give me a chance to prove myself." He knew he had reached her when she sighed and gave him a rueful grin.

"I guess that's only fair," Elizabeth allowed. "Let me discuss it with Carson and I'll get back to you."

John could live with that. "Thank you." He left the room before she could change her mind and headed straight for the gym. Teyla was there, as he knew she would be, and John stepped over to the corner and picked up one of the long staffs. They had moved on to this style of fighting and he found it to be a bit more challenging for him. Well, as challenging as it could be since he had acquired his new powers. If nothing else, the movements gave him something to focus on.

John would try and 'feel' where each reaction he made came from. He kept trying to understand how his body flowed in such a way without conscious thought so that he could remember it as something he used to have to think about.

Teyla smiled at Sheppard then grabbed her own staff. "Ready?" she asked, taking up a stance before him.

"Ready," John replied, and he let her make the first move.

For the next hour there was only the sound of stick's clashing and Teyla's heavy breathing. John didn't even feel winded by the time Teyla called a halt for a breather. They both drank some water then John paced around the room as Teyla got her second wind. He lifted one hand and pressed his palm against the wall, smiling to himself as he felt the warm vibration of the city against his skin as she reacted to his touch. John felt her as she touched back, touching his mind, then whispering to him softly.

"Major?"

John had to drag himself away, breaking contact with the wall, and feeling a sense of loss as he turned to face Teyla. "Yes?"

Teyla was eyeing him with concern. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." John frowned at her, wondering why she sounded so worried. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You seem...distracted," Teyla replied.

John realized that he was and nodded. "Yeah...I guess I am. I've got a lot on my mind. Mind if we call it a night?" he asked.

Teyla was nodding. "Of course. Do you wish to practice again tomorrow?"

"I hope we're going through the gate tomorrow," John replied, offering a slight smile. He enjoyed Teyla's look of surprise.

"You have been cleared to go through the gate again?"

John shrugged. "I hope so. Weir said she'd get back to me. So cross your fingers."

Teyla frowned. "Cross my fingers?" she echoed.

"Just...think good thoughts," John replied. "I'll catch you later." He headed out, feeling better and more normal than he had in a while.

oOo

John could feel Rodney staring at him and he turned to lock eyes with the astrophysicist. "What?" John demanded.

Rodney flinched as if struck. "Nothing."

"Then why are you staring at me?" John demanded, because it was beginning to bug him.

"I'm not staring," Rodney denied, then he huffed a sigh. "Okay...I was staring. I just...I think this is a bad idea."

Elizabeth had joined them near the gate and she was the one who asked, "What is a bad idea?"

Rodney looked at her and stated, "Letting the Major go off world."

"Why?" John was the one who snapped the question. He was not happy to hear this from Rodney. All the more so because during the briefing, McKay hadn't said a word. Now they were minutes from stepping through the gate and now he was concerned. To John it felt a bit like a betrayal.

"I just...well...the Major is valuable," Rodney said, without much conviction.

John frowned at that. "Valuable?"

Rodney glared at him. "You're the key to everything, Major. If something should happen to you --"

"Nothing can happen to me, McKay!" John snapped, as he moved to confront his teammate. "Remember? I'm the all powerful freak!" John hadn't meant to shout but then he was deafened by the sudden silent that fell across the gate room. Anger and embarrassment brought a flush of heat into his face.

"Rodney...it's my decision to make," Elizabeth stated firmly, her soft voice cutting through the heavy silence.

Rodney turned his glare on her. "And what if something goes wrong?"

Elizabeth held his glare. "I don't expect it should," she countered. "A trade agreement is already in place with the Folnerians. All you will be doing is renegotiating the trade agreement, and given that they're very eager to trade with us and it's gone well to date, I don't see the problem. Do you?"

"I guess not," Rodney mumbled, but it was obvious he wasn't happy about this."

"You don't have to come with us," John interjected, and he was still angry with Rodney. Angry because this still felt like some sort of betrayal.

Rodney heaved a put upon sigh. "I'll go."

Elizabeth nodded at them both. "Good. Be careful and come back safe," she entreated, then she ordered, "Dial up the gate!"

John felt a rush of excitement as he watched the puddle form before him. He was ready for an adventure. So as he stepped through with his team, he was smiling.

oOo

The trading went well. In fact it had gone almost too well, in the sense that it was over almost before it had begun. John knew that Weir would be pleased, but he wasn't ready to go home yet. 

Rodney, however, was chomping at the bit. "Let's get back," he said, as he almost herded everyone out of the meeting chamber. 

They emerged into sunshine and John sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. He really wanted to stay a bit longer, but even as he had the thought, he felt a tingle. And then he heard Teyla's hoarse whisper from beside him.

"Wraith!"

"Head for the gate!" John ordered, even as he looked up and saw a Wraith dart fly overhead. It was followed by another and another. Dozens of them. He watched as the Folnarians ran, screaming, trying to hide but being swept up by the culling beam. Fear and anger swept over him at the loss of life and he stopped running. Closing his eyes, John concentrated. He felt a liquid heat building inside him until it erupted into a white-hot flame of pure power. With a flicker of his mind, with a simple thought, he directed the power at the Wraith darts.

John didn't see them disintegrate. He didn't hear the gasps of disbelief. He didn't feel the hands that caught him as he fell.

There was nothing but cold, dark, silence.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Sheppard swam up from a fog. He thought he heard a murmur, cajoling him, and whispering feelings; not words. _Atlantis…_she was beckoning him to wake.

His eyes fluttered open; first, second and third time was the charm. He kept them open, and surveyed the infirmary. McKay was sitting next to him, Rodney's head was propped on his hands, his elbows digging into his thighs.

Sheppard didn't see anyone else, and the dimmed lights seemed to indicate it was late at night. How long had he been unconscious? And why? He fought to remember, and like a slow movie on reverse through a projector, the past events unfurled like a bad flashback.

He'd killed the Wraith attacking the Folnerians, but in the process, he'd killed those already culled.

"You're up," stated a surprised, but relieved, McKay.

Sheppard offered a weary smile and admitted, "Wish I wasn't."

"Why?"

"I killed them, McKay," he said, pained. At the confused look, he explained, "Not the Wraith; the Folnerians in the darts."

McKay was already shaking his head before he could finish, short jerking negatives. "They were already dead, Major. There wouldn't have been a last minute stay…you gave them the only kind of rescue possible."

"I've rescued others before, and I didn't have the abilities I do now."

"And back then we knew where they were taken!" exclaimed McKay. "Back then, the entire race wasn't awakened, and hunting for food."

"I could've tried," defended Sheppard.

"And you would've failed, leaving those people to die, every year of their life being sucked out in one agonizing second after another."

Sheppard opened his mouth to refute McKay's claims, but he couldn't, and they both knew it. He stared at Rodney, anguish stark in his soul, and he saw that the physicist understood.

McKay got up from the chair, and Sheppard knew he was leaving. He felt a pang of guilt because he had joined the group of _projects_ keeping McKay awake. Despite that guilt, he almost asked him to stay. Almost.

Before he left, Rodney said, "You remember how I envied you this?"

Sheppard nodded, not wanting to go down that road right now.

"I don't anymore."

Sheppard watched McKay leave, surprised by the admission.

oOo

"Good morning," said Beckett, giving John a tight smile, betraying the strain of keeping Sheppard in running order.

Sheppard grunted. It wasn't a good morning. He'd hardly slept at all. He glanced at Carson through lidded eyes, and wasn't surprised to see that Beckett didn't look like he'd fared much better last night. The doctor had a five O'clock shadow, and his white coat was rumpled.

"How do ye feel?" Carson asked, shifting the clipboard under his arm to his front, and scanning the numbers from the list of vitals taken during the night.

"Tired," admitted Sheppard. What was the use of lying? It was written all over his face, and he knew it.

Beckett nodded. "Aye, and you will be for a good day or more." He sat the clipboard on the end of the bed, and withdrew the stethoscope from his pocket, slipping it on, and rubbed the metal briskly, trying to warm it up, before placing it against Sheppard's chest. "Breathe," he instructed, listening intently.

Sheppard did as told, and soon Carson was writing new numbers down. Judging from the unworried face, Sheppard guessed he'd passed.

"Major, we need to talk," said Beckett, regarding him seriously.

"I'm listening."

"Do ye recall the talk we had about the physical effects?"

He did. Like a souped up race car – "I do."

Carson nodded, but his brow was wrinkled in worry. "What happens when a race car runs hard?"

Sheppard wondered what the point of this was, but followed along. "They need a pit stop?" he asked, uncertain.

"Aye, and what happens if there is no pit stop around?"

"It runs out of gas?"

Beckett was nodding sagely, and the implication finally hit home. "If I 'run out of gas', I'll die, is that what you're saying?"

"Essentially." Carson crossed his arms, one hand holding a pen, the other the clipboard, and they were know tucked tight against his chest. A familiar hold for the doctor.

"Major, ye can't be doing this without medical support nearby. Your body just does nae have the reserves to carry it through the use of these -" he waved the clipboard, searching for the word. "-powers," he finished lamely, not finding a better term.

"I didn't go there intending -"

Beckett held up his hands, the one still holding the clipboard, the other, the pen. "I know, but the outcome was the same."

Sheppard pursed his lips together in annoyance. He hadn't asked for any of this.

Carson sensed his mood, and retreated his full-court press. "Just…don't do it again, okay?"

"Okay," agreed John, but silently he wondered if he'd have much choice.

Thinking along those lines, the doctor said, "I've added a full IV packet with saline and glucose bags into you're med kit. All personnel will be trained in administering IV therapy."

Sheppard's mouth twisted into a sour smile. He could just bet how well that'd gone over with the troops. He grunted an acknowledgement, and Beckett signed his release with an illegible scrawl.

"I don't want to see ye back here," lectured Beckett, handing over the form. "Light duty for the next twenty-four hours."

With that, Beckett left him alone to get changed. John did so, and he knew where he was going first. The console room. He'd heard her calling to him all night. She sought the synergic relationship with wanton lust, and it surprised him. Atlantis was lonely, and having a taste of being heard had enticed her into wanting more…

…she was waiting for him. It was dark, the only light coming from the panel. He rested his palm against the cool plastic, and felt the thrill of her elation rocket through his mind. _I missed you…_

"I knew I would find you here."

Sheppard pulled his hand back, as if burnt, and spun about. Avitus.

"I don't want to talk about it," stated Sheppard emphatically. He knew why the Ancient was here.

"What you want," started the old man, coming closer to Sheppard, "is irrelevant. What you must do…that's why I'm here."

"You mean what _you_ think I must do," gritted Sheppard.

"Those Folnerians didn't have to die, Major. If you had acted -"

And that was the crux of it. That simple statement revealed the truth of what was eating away at him. If he'd acted. If he'd condemned those children on the Wraith home world to death - the Folnerians, and all the others, wouldn't have been, or be, attacked. Trading lives for lives. That's all it was.

"There's got to be another way," argued Sheppard. He had his back against the console, and he felt the city's distrust of Avitus. It reverberated into his body like a spoken echo.

"There is not!" Avitus' eyes had a gleam of fanaticism.

Sheppard looked upward. He was drained. He needed to get away from Avitus; clear his mind. "What do you want me to do?" he asked. He wanted to hear the plan. Then he'd take it to McKay for help. That way, at least, he'd get an idea of how feasible it was. Maybe there was a way to go with Avitus, and rescue the children.

The plan Avitus proceeded to detail, chilled Sheppard to the bone. He knew he needed to find McKay sooner, rather than later…

oOo

"He what!" exploded McKay.

Sheppard had found him in his lab, just as he'd figured he would. McKay was working on some kind of converter. The parts were strewn across the workbench; crystals and fiber optic wires so thin and fragile, Sheppard thought a strong gust of wind would shatter them.

"You heard me," said Sheppard. "He wants me to cause the sun to supernova. He claims the Wraith's home world is close enough that it'll be dragged in."

McKay snapped his fingers, heading over to his computer. "What's the address?" He was already typing.

Sheppard frowned, trying to recall the picture in his mind to gate addresses. "It's not there," he said, coming up empty.

McKay paused, thinking. He raised his head, a triumphant grin. "Could you show me?"

The chair. John grinned back, nodding. They headed out…

…Sheppard sat down; the chair responded instantaneously, reclining, and a star map drifted lazily into being in the room above.

He thought about the location, and the stars rotated, a section of the galaxy was zoomed into; once, twice…and then a star was shining brighter than the rest.

"That's it?" asked McKay, pointing towards it.

Sheppard nodded.

McKay regarded him gravely. "Major, we've got a problem."

oOo

Sheppard had acquiesced to McKay's request that they call a general briefing, consisting of Weir, Beckett, Bates, and Teyla. Now, everyone was here except McKay.

He tapped his foot impatiently, and smiled reassuringly at the others, who were looking slightly irritable at the wait.

Finally, Elizabeth cracked. "Major, where is Rodney?"

"Here!" called McKay, as he hurried in the double doors. "I'm here."

His arms were full of papers, and Sheppard could make out mathematical equations.

"It took longer than I thought," he explained, setting the work on the surface of the table by his chair. He didn't sit down, instead he headed over to a recessed computer and typed in commands. The lights dimmed, and a star map resolved above their heads.

Sheppard whistled in appreciation. "I didn't know it could do that."

Rodney grinned. "Nobody did; Avitus showed me."

At the mention of Avitus, the room sobered. Everyone, at the very least, knew the basic reason they were gathered here.

"Right," McKay said, realizing the reason for the sudden pall that had fallen across the room. "As I'm sure Major Sheppard has explained; he was approached by Avitus with a plan to destroy the Wraith home world."

Heads bobbed.

Elizabeth glanced at John, and turned her attention back to McKay. "He also explained how the Wraith use human children to grow new Wraith."

McKay grimaced. "I know."

"Then you know," continued Elizabeth, "We can't allow the destruction of the sun. Thousands of innocents will die, along with the Wraith, and all the Wraith out in Hive ships will remain alive."

McKay stared at her, his face showing consternation. "I know that," he said dismissively. "That's not what this is about."

"Then what is it about?" she asked, an edge to her tone.

Sheppard wondered if they'd interrupted something by calling the meeting. Or, maybe it was the fact that they'd 'called' the meeting without consulting her first. He winced in the darkened room…that was probably it.

"Avitus' plan wouldn't just destroy the Wraith home world," stated McKay. He paused for emphasis. "It would destroy half the galaxy."

The shocked silence gave him the satisfaction that he'd achieved his point.

Sheppard recovered first. He'd suspected something was wrong, and that's why he'd gone to McKay in the first place.

"How?" he asked coldly. His suspicions about the Ancient were being borne to fruition here in this room.

McKay turned back to the panel, and the star map winked out of existence, the lights slowly brightening back to normal levels. He stepped back to his chair, and lifted a paper full of equations, and returned back to the computer. The lights dimmed again, and this time the star map that resolved was the Wraith home world orbiting a massive sun.

"To explain, first you should understand how a black hole forms," he started. The map slid away to reveal a large, massive gaseous giant. Everyone watched as it began to swell – "A star feeds on hydrogen, and burns through a process of fusion. The hydrogen atoms are combined, and that creates energy. The energy feeds the star. Eventually, the supply of hydrogen is used up. When that happens, the star basically implodes. The outer atmosphere of gas explodes outward in a shockwave, while the insides fall inward, and when it does, the interior mass collapsing upon itself creates a mass so dense that the gravitational forces become impossible for even the fastest form of energy known to man to escape – visible light among them, hence the name- black hole."

"Planck actually discovered a major leap in physics with black body radiation. Stars emit light at a certain wavelength, blue stars being the most energetic. Imagine light entering a star, and inside there's a cavity. The particles of light bounce around, and by the time they exit the star, every single particle of light is now an identical energy state – that's why there are red, blue, and yellow stars. A black hole isn't so much a hole, as a star that has a gravity well so great that no known wavelength can escape it, not even energy radiating at wavelengths in the spectrum more energetic than visible light – gamma rays for example."

As he was explaining, the star exploded on the map, a wave of matter spreading concentrically outward, while the interior collapsed upon itself, and soon a black dot grew.

"This process doesn't happen overnight; it can take months, but the end result is the same."

Sheppard considered the information. He wasn't stupid, but he wasn't a physicist either. "Why blue? I thought red was higher up in the visible light spectrum?"

McKay looked positively excited by his question. He supposed he was in his element here. "Good question," he said, pointing something in his direction. "The visible light spectrum is separated based on the wavelengths of light. Red has an approximate wavelength of 650 nanometers to about 700, whereas blue runs about 450 nanometers. Keep in mind these aren't exact numbers. Now, that's wavelengths. Energy is actually an inverse of wavelength. The equation boils down to energy being equal to Planck's constant times the frequency, and frequency is the speed of light divided by the wavelength. The bigger the wavelength -"

"The smaller the frequency," said Sheppard.

"Exactly," said McKay. "And the smaller the frequency, the less energy."

Silence echoed around the room. The demonstration of a star going supernova, and the resulting black hole had a repressive effect. With the exception of Teyla, everyone else knew the terror of what a black hole could do. Combine that with the impromptu physics lesson, everyone was still trying to process the implication.

But everyone didn't quite understand the implication. McKay hit another button, and a red line created a path throughout the galaxy. "This is the path the black hole will take," he explained. "As you can see, it will affect roughly half the galaxy. And when I say affect, let me be clear, it will siphon away energy like an insatiable planet eater."

Elizabeth looked at the red line grimly. "Will it kill the stars in its path?" she asked.

"The forces on the affected planetary systems might not be great enough to sheer away portions of everything along the path, but the gravitational forces will have an equal result; death on every planet in it's way."

"Avitus knew this," said Teyla, her lips in a tight line, her eyes foreboding.

"I think so," agreed McKay.

Sheppard was surprised by his easy admittance. He knew McKay had thought Avitus was the answer for all their prayers, if Rodney even prayed. He'd believed in the Ancient from the start, and now irrefutable proof that the old man had came here under false pretenses, and was nothing short of a homicidal mad man.

Beckett had remained quiet through the entire briefing, but now, with a sharp look at Sheppard asked, "Will he take no for an answer?"

Sheppard didn't flinch, or hesitate. "He won't have a choice."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen 

After hearing what Rodney had to say about the black hole and the destructive damage it would do, everyone filed out of the conference room. Everyone but John and Elizabeth. She called for him to stay behind.

John stayed, but he rose from his seat and paced the room. He felt antsy and wound up and he knew why. Atlantis was calling to him. She wanted them to be connected again. John curled his fingers into fists and tried to ignore the hum in his head.

For a moment she watched Sheppard, then asked him, "Do you have a plan?"

"Kind of." John stopped pacing and turned to face her. "You won't like it though."

"Try me." Elizabeth looked grim.

John went back to pacing. "I have to leave Atlantis for a while."

That surprised Elizabeth. It showed in the way her eyes went wide and her stance suddenly became defensive. "Why? Why do you have to leave Atlantis? We can keep you safe here."

"I don't need protecting, Elizabeth," John reminded her, gently.

"You know what I mean!" she snapped.

He did know and he was grateful to her and the others for wanting to watch over him. But that wasn't how things were supposed to be. It was his job to protect them. Even when he had just been John Sheppard: Air Force major and ranking military officer of Atlantis. Now, with his connection to Atlantis and the powers he possessed, he knew that this was what he had been born to do.

Coming to Atlantis had been like coming home. Only he hadn't been ready to accept that fact. Until now. "I do know what you mean," John assured her. "But I have to do this. I have to leave Atlantis, and I'm going to take Avitus with me. For all he's been insisting that he can't interfere and suggesting that he has no real power here in Atlantis...I don't trust him. I think he can do a lot of damage and I want him the hell out of here and away from all of you."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I don't want you out there, somewhere, all alone with him, John."

"I'll be fine." John went still and tilted his head, listening to something only he could hear. Atlantis needed him. He locked eyes with Elizabeth. "I have to do this," he told her. "And you have to trust me to do this."

"John..." she began, only to break off and rub a hand over her face. Her weariness was visible. After a moment, Elizabeth nodded. "I do trust you. Do what you have to do."

John was relieved. He would have gone with or without her permission, but he preferred having her support. It made things easier on both of them. "Thanks." With that he turned to go.

Elizabeth called him back. "When will you leave?"

"Tonight." John paused in the doorway. "I have to talk to Avitus and tie up a few loose ends before I go."

"You make it sound like you won't be coming back!" Panic flared in Elizabeth's eyes and she stepped towards him as if to block his way.

John wasn't going to lie to her. "Look...I have every intention of coming back, but that said...I don't know what's going to happen. I'm making this shit up as I go."

Elizabeth exhaled a shaky breath. "I know. None of us were prepared for the things we've had to do. And I never thought I'd have to deal with one of my team being an actual ancient."

"I'm not!" John protested, more because he still wasn't ready to accept what that meant than because it was true. But even as the words were out, he was shaking his head and apologizing. "Sorry...reflex action. I really do have to go. I'll pack my stuff and talk to Avitus then let you know when we're ready to leave."

"Are you sure Avitus will leave?" Elizabeth queried.

John nodded, a grim smile curving his lips. "I'm sure. I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse." With that, he slipped out the door. Atlantis was calling.

oOo

The first place John went was the control room. He headed straight for the console and placed both palms on the cool surface. He caught his breath at the instant connection and at the relief he felt flooding through him. Not his own, but that of Atlantis. She was worried about him. John didn't blame her. He was worried about himself. Closing his eyes, John let the city slid into his mind...into his soul. He felt warmed as she drew him inside of her, taking him on a journey through the past. John became a part of the images she revealed.

He didn't just see the past, he was a part of it, and that evoked an awe inside of him that shook him to his core. But what was even more intense and mind-boggling was when Atlantis showed John how she viewed him. To the city he was a child. Her child. Born of her loins, and loved with a passion that ran deep and pure. In some ways, the depth of her love for him scared John. He pulled back from it, not wanting to hurt her, but needing to take a breath and to let his scattered thoughts and emotions reassemble into something that made sense to him. He needed to make everything more simplistic so that he could deal with it. Right now he felt as if he had shattered into a million pieces that needed to be melded back together, like a puzzle.

"She will never let you go," said an amused voice.

John whirled around to find Avitus smiling at him. "We need to talk," he said firmly, as he moved to face the other man.

Avitus nodded. "Indeed...we do. Time is running out, John. It is time to accept your destiny."

"My destiny is on hold for the moment," John retorted.

"Foolish child!" Avitus roared, and his anger reverberated throughout the chamber, making the very air seem to vibrate.

John stiffened as he faced Avitus's wrath, but he held firm. "You can't just dump this on me and think I'll go along for the ride. Too many lives are at stake. Or doesn't that matter to you?" He was angry now too.

Avitus made a show of calming down, folding his hands together before him and adopting a cold smile. "All life is precious," he allowed. "But sometimes we don't have the luxury of saving everyone."

"No kidding." John knew all about that first hand. He shook such thoughts aside, burying them back down inside him for now. "I'll make you a deal," he countered.

"A deal?" Suspicion clouded Avitus's voice.

John didn't blame him, but he forged ahead. He had to make the old man agree to his deal. "Look...I might consider your plan...but I want something from you first."

Avitus arched one eyebrow then asked, "And what would that be?"

"We leave Atlantis and you teach me how to use, and control, my powers," John replied.

"We don't have to leave Atlantis to do that," Avitus protested.

John locked eyes with him, letting the Ancient see that he would not be swayed on this point. "Right now I'm a danger to Atlantis. I can't control the powers I possess and I won't risk hurting anyone. So we leave. I don't care where we go, but we leave and you teach me and then...maybe...I'll consider your idea."

Avitus opened his mouth as if to protest, only to snap it closed. He turned away and paced a few steps and when he turned back to face Sheppard, he looked grim but determined. "As you wish," Avitus stated. "We will go to my homeworld and I will teach you what you wish to know."

"Great...good," John mumbled. He felt a little off-balanced because he hadn't expected Avitus to be so agreeable. But he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. "When can you be ready to leave?"

"Whenever you like." Avitus looked resigned.

John considered. "How about tonight?" He knew Elizabeth wasn't going to be happy, but he also knew that she really did understand why he had to do this.

Avitus gave a slight nod. "As you wish," he replied. Then he turned on his heel and strode from the room.

John shivered in the aftermath, feeling a coldness that seeped into his bones. He reached out with one hand, letting his palm drift over the console, wanting to feel the warmth of Atlantis in the hope that she would chase away the chill. But all John felt from her was the echo of his own fears.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen 

"You weren't going to say goodbye?" accused a voice behind him.

Sheppard's hand stilled, the folded black t-shirt hanging above his bag. _McKay_. He took a steadying breath, and shoved the shirt in. He wasn't. He didn't know how. But, he was a coward, because God forgive him, he still couldn't admit it to McKay's face.

He kept packing, rote moves, and answered, "I was."

Sheppard heard McKay move, and a few steps forward, Rodney wasn't out of his line of sight anymore. "Please, credit me with some intelligence," snapped the angry physicist.

John hated this. It'd been wrong. He knew it when he'd made the choice to try and leave without saying goodbye.

"I credit you with a lot of intelligence," he replied softly. He had yet to meet McKay's eyes. He couldn't.

"Then why are you doing this?"

The question meant more than goodbye, and they both knew it. McKay knew he was leaving to take down Avitus. Knew he was going alone to protect those he cared about.

Sheppard tossed the article of clothing savagely towards the open bag, and faced McKay since he'd entered Sheppard's quarters. "Because nobody else has a chance in hell of coming back!" he shouted, his face pained, and his eyes laced with the sorrow of the claim that they both knew was true.

McKay swallowed, visibly set back by the unexpected display of emotion. "You don't know that," he said, eyes pleading all the while for Sheppard to not do this.

Sheppard snorted, "Now who's not crediting whom for having a brain."

"Maybe you don't," said McKay, fixing a withering look on Sheppard. Like a sudden afternoon storm, Rodney went from hurt, angry and bitchy in a matter of moments before resting on resigned.

Before Sheppard could react, McKay had reached out, and grabbed him in a bone-crunching bear hug. Rodney gave him a few hard pats on his back, and murmured, "Good luck." And then he left, not giving John a chance to respond.

Sheppard stood bereft, his book hanging in his hand, and he said to nobody, "Good bye."

oOo

When Sheppard walked into the gate room, he was touched to find a majority of expedition members were lined up to say goodbye, including Teyla. He scanned the faces looking for McKay, but he supposed the confrontation in his quarters had been it, because Rodney wasn't there.

He noticed Avitus was waiting off to the side, and allowing him these private moments without intruding. He approached Teyla. She reached for his forearms, and they clasped in the ritual manner of the Athosians, touching foreheads. He lingered like that longer than maybe he should've, but now that the moment for leaving was here, he was reluctant.

"Do not stay away too long, Major." Teyla pulled back, and smiled kindly.

"I won't," he replied thickly.

He moved on, clasping hands, and accepting the well wishes from others. He came at last to Elizabeth and Beckett.

"John -" started Weir.

"I have to," he interrupted. He impulsively took her in his arms for a brief hug.

Beckett smiled ruefully, "Do nae think to hug me."

Sheppard returned an easy grin, and slapped a hand on the Doctor's shoulder affectionately. "Wouldn't dream of it," he said. He stared for a moment, his eyes looking on them, trying to drink in their faces so he wouldn't forget, no matter what happened.

"Take care of my team," he finally said.

"I will," chorused Elizabeth and Beckett.

Sheppard knew he'd lingered too long. It only made it harder in the end. He lifted his eyes away from his friends, and settled on the gate tech, inclining it slightly.

The tech began the dialing sequence, and the expedition members filed up the stairs, clearing the area around the gate. The wormhole exploded outward with dramatic action, before falling back into itself.

Avitus had his arms folded under his tunic, and approached the shimmering wall of cerulean, turning to Sheppard with a patient gaze.

"It is time, Major," he said kindly.

Sheppard wasn't fooled by the Ancients manner. Avitus was getting what he wanted, and that was all it took to tame the beast…for now.

He had one last good bye. Sheppard closed his eyes, and sought Atlantis with his mind. Her core…he felt the soft whispers of her essence glide through his body and soul. He sent thoughts of warmth, love, and promise. He'd be back. He wouldn't condemn her to more years of loneliness.

When he reopened them, he saw a sea of glittering eyes with unshed tears from those people still remaining. He walked towards Avitus, and waved half-heartedly, before following the Ancient into the event horizon.

oOo

When Sheppard emerged on the other side, he was surprised to see no sign of civilization. The gate was in a clearing, with tall leafy trees encircling the area. There wasn't a noticeable break anywhere that he could tell, which would indicate a path leading to their destination.

"Which way?" he asked Avitus, shielding his eyes from the glare.

Avitus pulled an arm from the folds of his robe, and took Sheppard's arm, guiding him away from the gate. "This will be your first lesson. There is no path, Major. In your mind, my home exists. You must focus on the destination, and we will be there."

Sheppard frowned. He wasn't an ascended being. He couldn't just go all glowy and disappear only to reappear somewhere else.

Before he could argue the fact, Avitus shook his head. "John, forget what you know of the Ancients. You are not us, we are not you. Remember, you are our second evolution. You are different!"

"But I don't see how -" he started to say, but stopped because Avitus had closed his eyes.

"Look in your mind," instructed Avitus.

Sheppard stared at him for a second, uncertain, and thinking this was a waste of time, but reluctantly closed his eyes. "Now what?" he asked.

"Think of destination. Think of home."

"But it isn't home," protested Sheppard.

Though Sheppard couldn't see, he could feel the Ancients irritability vibrating through his mind. "It is now," the old man answered. "Concentrate, John."

Sheppard did a mental eye roll, but did as he was told. He concentrated on the end of a journey; home, and soon felt a dizzying sweep of vertigo begin to overtake his body. Startled, he opened his eyes, and the dizziness came to an abrupt halt.

Avitus sighed. "You almost had it, why did you stop?"

"Because I was going to get sick if the whirling continued."

"Your body will adapt to the travel. Try again," prodded Avitus. "And this time, do not stop!"

Sheppard hated to admit, it really had been close for his stomach, but that wasn't here nor there. If he resisted, everything would be for nothing. He closed his eyes again, and found it easier to fall into the state of thought. Home, destination…and the dizziness began again. He kept his eyes shut, and felt the nausea increase.

"Open your eyes, John."

Sheppard's eyebrows bunched in consternation. "You told me not to!"

"We are here," announced Avitus. "You did very well."

He opened his eyes, and was shocked to find they were no longer in the clearing beside the gate. He was standing in front of a building. "I did it? Or I helped you do it?" asked Sheppard.

Avitus was smiling, clearly pleased at the results. "You did it. That mode of travel is not in my ability."

Another piece of the puzzle that indicated Sheppard's instincts were right. He did have the potential to overcome Avitus. As soon as the thought appeared, he shuttered it, not knowing for certain how much of him Avitus could still read.

He shifted his gaze to the new location. There were still thick patches of trees as far as he could see, and no discernable path led to the home. The house itself looked like something out of a fairy tale and a futuristic novel, combined.

The walls were some kind of white plastic, or unknown material, but the white was a guess because time had aged it to a faded pale imitation of it's original color, and the encroaching forest had grown up the walls. A green fungus grew in isolated patches.

It wasn't large; maybe the size of two large rooms, and it only rose to about eight feet in the air, if he had to guess. The roof wasn't slanted, but rather lay flat over the walls. It reminded him of a house built out of a deck of cards, where you have two cards capped by one on top, except this one had four walls and one on top.

"Are you ready?"

Sheppard looked away from the roof, and realized Avitus was waiting by a door leading in. "Where are we?"

"We are here," replied Avitus. The door opened, though Sheppard hadn't seen Avitus push or activate a switch. "I am sure you are hungry, and thirsty. Come."

He was. In the back of his mind he heard Beckett lecturing him about a souped up race car. A pang of longing for his friends surged upward, but he squashed it with an angry thought. That was behind him for now.

Avitus waited for him to step in first. He did so, and the surprises weren't over, because the interior was as if he'd walked into a replica of Atlantis. The main room reminded him of the control room in Atlantis. He kept expecting for find a gate tucked in a corner, so eerie was the comparison. There were two doors leading off the main room.

"Sleeping quarters," answered Avitus, to his unspoken question.

"You just happen to have two?"

Avitus smiled easily in reply. He led Sheppard to the room on the right, and again, the door slid open without any outward request. Sheppard walked in and saw a bed, and a panel with a door recessed in a wall.

The old man gestured at the panel and explained, "That is the kitchen, John. You think about your desire, and it will give you what you wish."

Sheppard eyed it skeptically, but walked over, curious. He pictured a turkey sandwich and a diet coke. The console beeped, and the plastic door slid upwards to reveal just that waiting for him. He took the items, and looked towards the Ancient. "Is there anything like this in Atlantis?"

"Yes," answered Avitus. He was heading back out the door. "After you eat, rest. You will need it for your next lesson."

Before Sheppard could ask what the next lesson was going to be, Avitus had left, and the door shut behind him. He idly wondered if the door would open for him. He discarded the idea of trying. It wasn't necessary yet, and wouldn't serve a purpose. He was tired. Setting the food items on a table by the bed, he shrugged off the pack, and tossed it into a corner.

He ate, and stretched out on the bed. He propped his hands underneath his head, and waited for sleep to take him. He knew he had a long ordeal to prepare for. Training, and then…and then his plan.

oOo

He wasn't woken by an alarm, or a call. At least, not a call you could hear with your ears. It was in his head, and he knew instantly that it was from Avitus. His training was already beginning.

He pushed himself off the bed, and headed towards an area along the wall that looked like it held a bathroom. He was right; he quickly splashed some water on his face, and relieved himself, before heading outside to find the Ancient.

Avitus wasn't in the control room. Sheppard frowned. Was this how it was? Hide and seek for lesson one? So be it. He closed his eyes and thought of Avitus. A dizzying swirl of motion, and he opened them to find he was in the forest, but no Avitus.

"This isn't funny!" he shouted. He spun around, searching. The Ancient had to be here.

A noise above. Sheppard craned his neck to look up, and there was the old man, sitting relaxed in the crooked trunk of a massive tree. Avitus pushed out, and landed gracefully on the forest floor beside Sheppard. "Very good, John."

"Oh, great. I'd make a good Ancient hound dog."

Avitus chuckled. "It was an exercise in using your mind to find someone, and further, when the obvious did not present itself to you; you trusted your instincts, yes?"

Sheppard nodded, understanding. "I didn't leave. I trusted that you were here."

"Precisely," said the pleased Ancient.

"How did you get up there? I thought you said only I could do that kind of travel?"

A humored smile: "I climbed," replied Avitus, walking back towards the house.

Sheppard was, in fact, startled to realize they weren't far from the dwelling - maybe a mile, if that. "Why didn't you ask me to magic us back here?" he asked, after they arrived in the clear area in front of the building.

"Because your body needs to stay physically active. If you allow your mind to do it all for you, soon the body will waste away, and the mind will die."

That made Sheppard realize he had a lot to learn. Something as simple as that, and it hadn't even occurred to him. He didn't have time to dwell on more, because Avitus was already in the building.

Sheppard tagged after, finding the old man standing over a console. He asked, "What are you doing?"

"Preparing your next lesson," answered Avitus, without looking away from the panel. He continued to depress buttons for a few more minutes, but finally stepped back.

"All right, John, come over here," waved the Ancient, gesturing for Sheppard to come alongside him.

He did. There was a screen, and across it scrolled data. "Is it written in Ancient?" asked Sheppard. He knew that when he saw Ancient, his mind fooled him into believing he was reading English, because the translation was done automatically in his head.

"It is," confirmed Avitus. "Read, and learn."

And he did. His mind began scanning, and inputting the data in his memory faster than he'd ever thought possible. It told the story of a world populated by sub-humans. Savages, incapable of more than the barest survival in a harsh land populated by predators much larger than the largest human.

The Ancients captured some, by accident. A family was being herded to its death by a pack of saber tooth tigers. Two Ancients intervened, but by doing so, exposed who they were. Reluctant to let their presence be known, they took the family to the city.

Tests, care and startling results. These savages weren't so very different genetically from the Ancients. They knew they could improve the savages. A few genetic changes, and they'd learn, and grow and become more than they were. Maybe even some day become a race equal to the Ancients…

Sheppard pulled away, and stared at Avitus. "We're a manipulated race!" he accused. "You changed our people to be like your own."

"And if we hadn't, you wouldn't exist," said Avitus. He wasn't apologetic, or hesitant to speak the truth. "You had to have suspected."

Sheppard thought back to his biology lessons, and whispered with dawning realization, "The Broca divide -"

Avitus peered at him, puzzled. "Broca?"

"A biologist. The brain was his specialty, and he tried to answer the question of changes in the evolution of early man -" Sheppard drifted off, not wanting to get into the discussion. It didn't matter anyway.

"When you seeded the Pegasus Galaxy, did you do it with that blueprint?" Sheppard asked aggressively. It bothered him to think that the human race was a result of alien tampering.

Avitus dismissed his irritation with a casual change of topic. "Keep reading," he instructed, before turning his back away and heading for a window that was constructed seamlessly in the wall behind Sheppard.

Sheppard figured there wasn't a point of arguing, aside from the fact that he'd gain some small amount of satisfaction. He kept reading. When he was finished, he had the history of the Ancients firmly embedded, and felt slightly shell-shocked. It wasn't always a clean history; the people weren't above the same problems that had plagued Earth. In-fighting, bloody wars, weapons of mass destruction – they'd faced it all in their past, and managed to overcome. For that, he gave them a measure of respect.

"Now do you begin to understand who you are?" asked Avitus from behind him.

Sheppard turned, and saw the old man was staring still at the scenery out the window.

"Maybe," he answered honestly. He knew he was what they hoped for. Ancient in mind, but human in form. Able to do all they could, and still maintain a physical body. "But I think this is more dangerous than your people realized."

"How?"

Sheppard drew away from the console, and approached the Ancient, who looked as if he'd aged ten years in the minutes it had taken Sheppard to read the history.

"For all your power; you are limited. You have restrictions on actions, behavior. I don't."

Avitus laughed dispiritedly. "Don't you?"

Sheppard didn't reply. He did, and they both knew it, but he also knew he was going to set those moral codes aside to do what had to be done.

"You are going to try and destroy me," said Avitus. He pulled his gaze away from the view, and the eyes that fixed on Sheppard were as hard as they were understanding - a strange mixture of age and scheming.

"If I can," replied Sheppard honestly. He was locked in the stare with Avitus, and neither moved to break the contact.

Avitus pulled away first. "We shall see," he answered absently, focusing again on the world outside. Sheppard matched his pose, hands clasped behind his back, and they watched the sun set.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen 

Nearly two weeks had passed since Sheppard had left Atlantis.

Elizabeth missed him. She knew she wasn't alone. Everyone missed him. He had been the heart of Atlantis. His passion had warmed everything and everyone he touched. Metaphorically, of course. Although maybe not so much so as far as Atlantis was concerned. Sometimes Elizabeth felt certain that even the city, herself, missed Sheppard. Certainly, in the time he had been gone, she seemed less responsive to everyone. There had been more than one moment with power fluctuations and the other day they spent six hours in the dark when the back up generators refused to kick in.

Heaving a sigh, Elizabeth tried to focus on the reports on her laptop, but her gaze kept straying to the doorway of her office. She kept expecting Sheppard to be there, charming smile on his face, a smart remark sliding from his lips. Right this moment she would have happily embraced a pissed off Sheppard, even if his fury was directed at her. Anything was better than this feeling of _emptiness_. It was as if she had somehow lost a part of herself. And that was a feeling she didn't want to explore beyond the surface. She couldn't afford the luxury.

So she made herself pay attention to the reports, although she found herself still listening for the sound of his voice.

oOo

Teyla moved across the floor of the exercise arena with lithe grace. Her bare feet made no sound as she glided and spun, her sticks flashing and flicking through the air. Dipping down to one knee she went still, the only sound in that room that of her heavy breathing. Inhaling deeply, Teyla tried to exhale the sadness that she felt.

She missed Major Sheppard. Missed the way he would smile at her, as if to reassure her. She missed the way he would try to pretend that the practicing with her was merely because he was bored. But then he would become intense, his eyes focused, his stance purposeful, and she had felt as well as saw the progress he had made, long before he had...changed.

But he hadn't really changed all that much. Rising to her feet, Teyla moved to the window seat and curled up on it, drawing up her legs and resting her cheek on her knees. Nothing could change the core of John Sheppard. He was a man of great passion. A man brave of heart. A man who was intensely loyal to those he called friend. A man who had the courage to risk his own life for the sake of others. He was a man who looked her in the eye and saw who she _was_, not who he wanted her to be. Teyla valued the way he had respected her. She missed that. But mostly, she missed his easy charm and his ability to face each day with hope.

Stretching out, Teyla rose to her feet and gathered her belongings. As she left the room she carried with her the hope that Major Sheppard would come home soon.

oOo

Rodney muttered to himself as he reached for his coffee mug, only to curse when he realized it was empty. Rising off his stool, he winced at the stiffness in his limbs as he staggered the dozen steps over to the coffee maker he and Zalenka had created out of used parts. It beat having to make coffee runs to the mess hall.

Reaching for the pot, Rodney sighed as he realized it was empty as well, and only now he remembered he had meant to make more after draining it for his last cup. Instead he dropped his mug onto the table, wincing at the clang it made as it hit the surface. He had the mother of all headaches, which he fully blamed for his being distracted. Rodney had spent the past three hours working on one circuit board and he still hadn't discovered what was making it malfunction.

"Stupid..." Rodney muttered as he scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of both hands. And he wasn't talking about the circuit board. He was angry and Sheppard. Angry that the man felt he had the right to leave Atlantis to play hero. As if it were his sole purpose in life to put himself at risk to save the world. Or rather, in this case, the whole fucking galaxy. "Idiot!" Rodney hissed, but it didn't make him feel better, even if it were true.

It was better when Sheppard was around to throw Rodney's barbs back at him. In fact, he would have given pretty much anything to have Sheppard in the room right now, smirking at him, as they discussed...whatever. Hell, Rodney would have been content watching the Major's stupid football tape. Which fact bothered him to no end. Just when did he start becoming so needy? As in, _needing_ Sheppard's friendship. And that in itself was a kick in the face because Rodney didn't have friends. Didn't want them, sure as hell didn't need them. Friends were a complication he didn't have time for.

"Damn fool..." Rodney muttered, as he returned to his work station. He wasn't at all sure if he were talking about Sheppard...or himself. He tapped at the keyboard and brought up a page of Ancient text when the lights flickered. Rodney frowned. "Not again." In that moment he was plunged into darkness. As he bumped into the corner of the table, while searching for his flashlight, a rather frightening realization clicked in Rodney's brain. Atlantis missed Sheppard.

oOo

He felt like shit warmed over. Everything ached, even his hair. His skin felt sensitive as he snugged the blankets over himself, and he shuddered at the feeling. It was like the painful tenderness of a sunburn. But it was his head that bothered him most. When he tried to sit up his head felt like it weighed a ton and nausea rolled over him in waves. So John tried to keep as still as possible, mentally cursing himself for over doing it.

He remembered overhearing his mom telling one of her friends what her migraines felt like. Sadly, John could now sympathize. Any light hurt his eyes and it felt as if a vise were clamped to the base of his skull, twisting it tighter and tighter until the throbbing pain spread out in circuitous waves. There was no relief and John was just about ready to knock himself out.

He had pushed himself too far. Carson had warned him not to do that. John wished he had listened. But he wanted to learn everything he could while Avitus was still willing to teach him. They both knew that, ultimately, John would use what he learned against the Ancient. That he would do everything in his...considerable...powers to stop Avitus from doing any serious damage.

The headaches should have been a warning. From the first day they had arrived here, John had felt the thrum of pain in his head. He had ignored it. But each day it got increasingly worse, eventually making it hard for him to concentrate. Yesterday had been the worst of it. John had mastered moving from place to place with just a flicker of a thought. And he had mastered other things as well. Such as the weather.

Avitus had pushed him to create an atmospheric thunderstorm, complete with lightning and John had stunned himself by doing so with ease. Only the pain in his head had swelled into a crescendo of white noise and he had lost his control over the storm and the energy had surged back into him, knocking John about twenty yards where he had landed with a jolt, feeling more than a little scorched.

John had cursed his headaches. Avitus had loomed over him, smiling smugly, reminding John of Rodney until the Ancient had stated that Atlantis was the cause of his distraction. Rising to his feet, John had returned to his room and drifted off to sleep, only to be awakened by sad whispers and he knew Avitus was right. Atlantis missed him.

He missed her too. The feel of the city itself, and his connection to her. But more than that, he missed the people and he wondered what everyone was doing now.

Hoping to distract himself from the throbbing pain in his head, John let himself remember his friends. He could easily picture Elizabeth in her office, sitting at her desk, her focus on her laptop as she read her daily reports or scrolled through Ancient text.

He thought of her standing at the top of the stairs, or on one of the catwalks, arms folded over her chest as she nodded at him before he led his team through the gate. John winced at that thought. He missed going on missions. He missed his team. Although once Ford had returned home, it had never been the same.

Sighing, John let his thoughts drift to Teyla. He missed their practice sessions. He actually missed her kicking his ass. Once he had gained his powers, the dynamic between them had changed in more ways than one. It wasn't the same going against someone when you knew every move they would make, even before they did. But more than the sparring between them, John missed Teyla's serenity. There was an aura of calm about her that always seemed to wrap itself around him whenever he was with her. He could use huge doses of serenity about now.

Then there was Rodney. Oddly enough, John missed him most of all. Missed being able to trade barbs back and forth knowing that feelings wouldn't be hurt. And it was fun not feeling like he needed to hide his intelligence. John knew his rather heavy math ability, and the fact that he passed the Mensa test, often made people treat him differently. So he had learned to hide that part of himself at an early age. As he got older he learned to mask his intelligence for other reasons. It gave him the upper hand when he needed it most. But with Rodney, John could just be himself and still not reveal too much.

It was this later thought that reminded John of why he was where he was at this moment. He needed to keep everyone on Atlantis safe. To that end, John let himself reach out with his mind, sending tendrils of himself slithering away, searching and seeking contact with the world around him. He was too sick to leave his room, physically, but John now had the ability to fly without wings.

As the tendrils of himself branched out, John was able to focus on his senses. They were heightened to an awareness that was beyond human comprehension. He could see and hear and feel and taste things that most humans were unaware even existed. Everything had a texture and a scent. The very air itself. It had a flavor to it as well, and humans would be surprised to learn that even a blade of grass made a sound that was like music. If you knew how to listen.

Closing his eyes, John exhaled and felt his body relax. Then he let the essence of himself ride the tendrils of his consciousness. Silently he whooped with joy as he rode on the wind, soaring higher than any eagle, moving fast than the speed of light. He tasted the sunlight and felt the warmth of it as something velvet soft and silky smooth. He danced in and out of raindrops that were high in the atmosphere, tickles of wetness that would evaporate long before they touched the ground below.

John felt the heaviness of his physical form dissolve as he became the breath in his body, misting into molecules that skittered and scattered into the universe and beyond. He ricocheted off stars, absorbing their fire into himself before hurtling down through clouds where he cooled off into tiny balls of ice only to shatter like a shower of sparks that drifted on the wind. Only he was the wind. He was everything.

There was no pain in this form, no sorrow. There was only peace and joy and he never wanted to go back, but he knew he had to return and so he let himself skate back into himself. But slowly. He took the time to feel and see and taste and touch everything. And that was when he felt it. He wasn't alone in the plane of awareness. He knew who the other was. He touched the essence that was Avitus and shuddered.

There was nothing warm, bright, or good about it. It was cold, dark, heavy and evil. There was a shimmer of something quicksilver and elusive. Taunting John. He went after it, capturing it within his ephemeral grasp only to recoil in shock as it wrapped itself around him like an icy shroud and the moment it touched him, John knew what it was. Madness. Pure madness. Frantically he tried to disconnect but it cost him. Pain cut through him with sharp, stabbing blows, leaving John shaking and gasping for breath. But even as he slid into blessed, numbing, darkness he knew he hadn't completely broken free. A sliver of quicksilver madness danced within him, creating shadows in his soul.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen 

Sheppard could feel the sweat drenching his body. The effort was massive, but slowly, and surely, he felt the planet move –

"Well done," said Avitus.

Their bodies were in the home, but they weren't with their bodies. Despite being elsewhere, there was still a part of him able to visualize and feel what his body felt.

Sheppard grunted, and with a last mental shove, returned the planet to its original location.

The mental line snapped and twanged, and he opened his eyes – he'd returned to his body. Beside him, Avitus sat up, and reached for him. The old man's hand slid underneath John's back, and persistently guided his exhausted pupil upright.

Once Avitus was convinced Sheppard was staying up, he removed his support, and stood, walking over to the food receptacle.

John watched the Ancient move. He knew Avitus was old, but he also knew appearances could be deceiving. Avitus was an Ancient, and he had the ability to revert to an ascended state in the same way that Chaya did.

He didn't say anything, just watched. Avitus came back to him bearing a cup. John took it eagerly. He was drained, mentally and physically. The effort involved had been probably more than he was capable. He was surprised that he was even alive after that accomplishment, and he couldn't help but experience a thin shiver of fear for what he'd done.

He'd told Teyla that he was changed – that he was a freak. Never before had he felt it so utterly. He _was_ different. The power frightened him. How could he trust that he wouldn't inadvertently destroy others? How could he ensure that, even acting with good intentions, he didn't act in a manner that cost innocent lives?

What was he? Human? Sheppard stared at the dregs of the drink at the bottom of the container. He wasn't human anymore. Ancient? He frowned at the cup. He wasn't Ancient either. He was something different, something new, and he was scared…

…because he could feel the time for the confrontation was approaching. He looked up, and found Avitus watching him. The Ancients face was impassive. He wasn't often readable. John had tried, but failed repeatedly, yet he could sense…

"If you knew my intent was to confront you, why have you been teaching me?" asked John quietly, finally voicing that which had been bothering him since they'd arrived.

Avitus took the cup from John, and set it on a nearby table, returning to the couch. He pulled his robe to the front, and settled down beside Sheppard. He paused, regarding Sheppard with a patient smile that reminded John of a tolerant parent.

"Does the wind seed the forests, as well as tear them down?"

John looked away, found a blemish on the floor, and focused on it. He considered Avitus' words. Finally, he spoke, "Then you will try to tear me down?"

Avitus clasped his hands in his lap, and studied them as if it were John's mind held between the wrinkled palms. "Sometimes, the greatest lesson to be learned is when the pupil tries to defeat the master."

"So it's meant to be my final lesson?" Sheppard's mouth twisted in a sour line. "What if I win?"

"That is a chance I am willing to take."

"Why do I get the feeling you've planned all of this from the beginning?"

Avitus inclined his head a small amount, and John saw the Ancients mouth curl slightly. Avitus released his hands from his lap, and stood up. "You should rest. When the time is here, you will need it."

Sheppard couldn't help but feel torn. On one hand, the Ancient was evil in his delusions of grandeur. He wanted to rid the universe of the Wraith, but in doing so he'd given himself over to the insanity of righteousness. Dark now, but not always had the old man been. Goodness was corruptible, and therein was a danger that John skirted.

He would act with the intent to save lives – certain of the righteousness of his actions, but would the defeat of Avitus corrupt him? Would he become dark, stained by the death of the Ancient?

He tried to shake off the philosophical ramblings in his mind. He felt, not saw, Avitus's soft hands propelling him back into a horizontal position. Felt his legs being moved onto the couch once again, and his eyes drifted shut.

For now, all he must do was rest. Sleep…tomorrow would come, regardless of his thoughts, and worries.

oOo

McKay adjusted the machine again. It blipped and then faded. Angrily, he did something he would rarely do, and that was hit the machine hard with the bottom of his fist. It whistled plaintively, but the blip returned, and this time stayed.

"Got you!" he crowed.

He'd been trying to fine-tune the output for days, yet finally he had achieved his goal. Now the time was here to find Elizabeth, and tell her what he needed to do…

oOo

Avitus came for Sheppard as he slept. At first, it was a soft, gentle nudge against his dreaming thought; then, more persistent, and hard. Gradually, John woke to a screaming pain in his mind and he knew it had begun…

Sheppard focused on space, and found himself there. Avitus had followed him. John bent his thought toward the Ancient, and he saw in his mind the old man floating backward, hurled away from his location.

Then, it was Sheppard's turn to feel the blow. He knew he wasn't here physically, yet he felt his body suffer the stunning shock of a blow that would've snapped every bone in his body had he been present.

His teeth clattered, and he fought to stop the tumbling motion that caused his stomach to rise in this throat.

John sought the essence of Avitus, for he knew he couldn't bring about the Ancients death by attacking the body. It had to be his mind- his soul. He felt the insidious slide of the tainted mind, and he slipped in, quickly and with dark intent.

He was repulsed by a strong surge of anger, hate and desire. Avitus had a stronger mind than John had reckoned for, but he knew instinctively that it was the way it was meant to be. He could not have known, anymore than he could've turned from this path.

As he fought to seek the source; the essence of Avitus's life and soul, fought to do murder – John felt in turn the Ancient seeking his own. John knew the victor would be the one to break through first. Knew also, that he must, because if he failed, he'd be nothing more than a husk, held in slave to the dark Ancients desires for domination and death.

He felt the invasion in his mind like oily fingers slipping through his soul, parts of it dripping between the cracks. He cried out, and fought with renewed vigor. His sight grew dim, and he knew Avitus was closer, but so was he. He let the Ancient believe he was winning, all the while he crept closer – quietly, and with the precision of a surgical laser beam.

Just as he knew he was about to fall, Sheppard reached out, and with mental fist, pounded against Avitus. He felt the old man react. The fingers pulled back in rage and terror, and for a moment that seemed to stretch across eternity, the old man loosed thoughts of regret and betrayal.

A final sentence echoed in Sheppard's mind.

"The pupil is greater than the master -"

And the universe blinked.

oOo

McKay followed the blip…and found Sheppard. But Sheppard wasn't breathing. Rodney shouted for Beckett, shouted for help that he prayed wasn't too late…

oOo

"He's dying, Rodney." Beckett's face was twisted with sorrow, and the pain of feeling useless.

McKay stared in shock at Beckett. He stumbled back, bumped the major's bed, and didn't even seem to notice. "But you said -"

Beckett stopped him from saying anything further. "I know what I said. It isna anything I can stop." Beckett was pale with fatigue. He'd been up working on Sheppard for the past sixteen hours straight. Each time they'd get one system stable, the next would fail. Heart, lung, kidneys – his body was acting like it'd forgot how to live.

"There's got to be something…"

"If there is, I wish someone would tell me."

McKay shook his head. "No," he stated emphatically, pushing himself away from Sheppard's bed. "I don't believe it."

Beckett watched McKay storm out of the room, and sighed. "Believing or no," and he turned back and watched the figure on the bed, covered in wires, "it won't change the outcome."

The only answer was the sound of the ventilator, artificially breathing a facsimile of life into the dying man.

oOo

McKay was wondering the halls. It was night in Atlantis, and most members had found their beds, but not him – and not the people closet to Sheppard.

He knew there was a steady parade of friends saying their final goodbyes. Elizabeth had called and told him the decision had been made to remove life support. That they were giving up, and letting the major go, but McKay refused. He hoped in some way that his refusal would keep them from doing it. From taking the final, irreversible step while he searched desperately for an answer.

He felt, deep in his gut, that there _was_ an answer. He just needed time…

…and then he realized where his feet had taken him. He was in the console room. Where it'd all began. He stared at the panel glowing harmlessly in the dark, and the answer hit him so hard he was surprised his brain didn't leak out his ears.

He knew how to save Sheppard! He turned, and headed towards the infirmary at a dead run, praying he wasn't too late…

…he broke through the doorway, hardly waiting to clear the door. He saw Beckett flipping a last switch…saw the monitor registering a flat line.

"Oh god," he breathed. "Turn it on!" he shouted desperately. "Turn it back on! I know how to save him!"

Beckett frowned, opening his mouth to tell McKay there was nothing to be done, but McKay had turned his attention on Elizabeth.

"Please, trust me. I can save him."

Elizabeth's mouth worked against her emotions. The need to trust him, but the logic that Sheppard was already dead.

McKay fought to catch his breath. He pierced Elizabeth with desperation. "If he dies, it'll be on your head," he said, his voice breaking. To have the answer, to be so close –

Elizabeth's lips firmed into a decision. She turned to face Carson, "Do it."

Beckett didn't protest. He began flipping the switches, and shouting for a shot of adrenalin. "Now, quick!" he snapped at the nurses hesitating.

Everyone waited on tenterhooks, before the room filled with a soft, rhythmic beeping signaling the major's body was functioning again. Once Beckett was satisfied with the readings, he turned to McKay. "You better be right, Rodney, because if I brought his body back to life only to have to send it back to the dead -"

"I'm right," snapped McKay. He turned to Elizabeth. "The city, Elizabeth. Atlantis will save him!"

Despite the skeptical faces, Sheppard was put on a portable life support system, and wheeled to the console room. There, McKay took Sheppard's hand, and holding it with his own covering the major's, placed it flat against the inviting panel…

…_sleep_. He'd been sleeping for too long. His mind stirred. What had woke him?

A stroke of familiarity in his mind. A surge of warmth, and welcome, and a call to come back home…

And Sheppard responded. He called back, stretching his mind to twine with the other consciousness, and he sensed another presence. He reached towards it, as well.

Elizabeth and Beckett saw McKay stiffen, his eyes going wide.

"Rodney!" shouted Weir, moving to pull him back.

Beckett stopped her. She looked at him, worried lines etching new furrows in her forehead. "Something's wrong!"

"I don't think so," he answered quietly.

Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. And waited.

_McKay? _Sheppard knew that mind from the moment he felt contact. Strong, brash, arrogant – and familiar, reassuring, caring...

_Why are you here?_

He felt Atlantis running through his body, felt systems restored, and struggled to take a breath on his own.

Beckett, seeing the major fighting the vent tube, quickly withdrew it. He watched as Sheppard breathed on his own for the first time since they'd rescued him.

Elizabeth swallowed back the emotion. Something _was_ happening – Rodney had been right.

John felt the answer reverberate through his body.

_To save you._

And then Sheppard felt a lulling pull in his veins, singing him to sleep – to rest…


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen 

It was the pain that woke him. A stabbing, throbbing ache in his temples that leeched into his nerve endings and made even breathing painful. His entire body hurt. But even as he shifted and a whimper escaped him, John heard a soft whisper in his head. He felt a warm and soothing essence washing over him. Atlantis was trying to soothe him back to sleep. But he fought against it. John realized he was home. He forced his eyes open, needing to see his surroundings. Needing to be sure.

He recognized where he was. The infirmary.

"Major?"

Turning his head to the right, John blinked hard and brought Rodney's face into clear focus. "McKay..." he croaked out.

Rodney grinned at him. "Welcome back, Major."

"Thanks." John's voice was raspy to his own ears and he coughed to try and clear his throat. Which was a mistake. Little flares of pain went off all over his body.

"Have some water." McKay thrust a glass in front of Sheppard's face, then held the straw for him.

After a few sips, which felt heavenly as they slid down his parched throat, John pulled back. "Thanks."

Rodney put the glass back on the bed stand. "You're welcome." Then he just stood there, awkwardly, grinning at Sheppard.

"Is Avitus...dead?" John needed to know but in a way he didn't want to know. He didn't want to remember what had happened, although it was already replaying in his head.

"He's dead," Rodney confirmed. "Nice work." His tone was flat and the grin had faded.

John realized something was wrong. "Rodney..." he began, only to be cut off.

"You died!" Rodney was yelling now. "What the hell were you thinking? YOU DIED!"

"I...I'm sorry." John wasn't sure what else to say. He shifted, feeling uncomfortable under the intensity of McKay's gaze. And when Rodney just stood there, glaring at him, he finally asked, "How did you find me?"

The anger seemed to leave Rodney in a rush. His shoulder's slumped and he turned and grabbed a nearby stool, hauling it over to the bedside before plopping down on it. "You have me to thank for that," he stated.

John almost smiled. "Of course I do. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Rodney sighed, rubbed a hand over his face, then brightened a bit. "Remember when we said goodbye? The...hug?"

"I remember." John did remember but he didn't get the point of remembering that.

Rodney shrugged. "When I slapped you on the back I placed a transponder on your jacket. It took a while to fine tune in the signal so we could locate you, but we did. _I_ did."

John felt Rodney had earned his moment to crow about it. "Thank you...again," he whispered softly. And he meant it. There was more he wanted to say, more he needed to know, but John's eyes were becoming heavy-lidded and his mind foggy and Atlantis was back to trying to soothe him into slumber. He heeded her call and drifted into warm darkness.

oOo

The next time he woke up, Elizabeth was sitting on the stool. John saw how tired she looked and he knew he had been the cause of more than a few of the lines that marked her face. He felt regret over that. "Hey," he said softly in greeting.

"Welcome back, major," Elizabeth replied. "How do you feel?"

"Alive." It was succinct but apt.

Elizabeth smiled. "Close call though."

John knew that better than anyone. "How long have I been back?"

"Six days. Once we got you...back...you just went into this deep sleep." Elizabeth got off the stool and moved closer, one hand reaching out to touch his shoulder, as if needing the contact. "Carson said your body was trying to heal itself."

"Rodney said I died." That thought had been on John's mind, dancing in his dreams. He remembered dying.

Elizabeth winced. "You were on life support and we made the decision to turn it off, but Rodney figured out how to save you."

John wasn't the least bit surprised to hear that. And he knew how. "Atlantis." Even now he could feel her. She was a constant hum beneath his skin and a soft musical whisper in his ear. She was happy he was home. He was happy to be home. But there was something John needed to do. Something he had to do if he were to remain in Atlantis. If he were to remain _John Sheppard_.

"The city missed you, John," Elizabeth said. "We had a lot of power fluctuations and the like. Rodney realized they started right after you left."

"I missed Atlantis...and all of you," John replied, and he had to speak around the lump in his throat. He felt fingers closing over his hand and he let himself hold on to Elizabeth for a moment. Then he exhaled softly and said, "I'm changing."

Elizabeth looked confused. "Excuse me?"

John squeezed her hand then released it, bringing his own up to rub his face. "Before Avitus died, he taught me a lot about who I am now. It's amazing and addicting...but it's not me. It's something beyond what I am, Elizabeth. The things I can do are astounding...but it scares me." He could see that his confession shook her.

"Scares you?" Elizabeth echoed. "Why?"

"I have all this power," John replied, then he paused to choose his words carefully. He wanted her to understand something that was impossible to explain without experiencing it. "If I keep this power...then I sacrifice my humanity."

Elizabeth frowned at him then shook her head. "I'm not sure I understand what you're saying, John."

He wasn't sure he could make her understand. "I'm not ready to be a god, Elizabeth," John whispered, as he locked eyes with her, hoping that she could see what he meant. "I want to stay human." He saw her flinch at his words and continued on. "I want it out of me. Can we do that? Can we get it out?" John realized he was pretty much begging here and he didn't care.

"I contacted SG-1 a while ago," Elizabeth replied. "They got back to me soon after you left with Avitus." Elizabeth was smiling now. "The Asgard are on their way."

"I'll take that as a...yes?" John asked, hopefully.

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes."

Relief washed over John, but it was followed by sadness. He knew that Atlantis felt everything he was feeling and that it was her sadness he felt as well as he drifted back to sleep.

oOo

Four days later, John was released from the infirmary, but under strict orders to stay in bed and rest. And he had lots of visitors popping up to check on him. They tired him out. But he understood that they were happy he was back and they just wanted to make sure he was still with them. They needed to see _him_ to make sure. But it still wore him out. John was almost dozing off when a knock sounded on the door. "Come in," he called out, wearily.

Rodney entered the room. "Got a minute?" he asked.

"Got a lot of them," John shot back, offering a smile. Rodney didn't smile back. "What's up?"

"The Asgard will be here tomorrow," Rodney blurted out.

John flinched at that, but swallowed against the lump in his throat and managed to say clearly, "Good."

Rodney grabbed a chair and moved it to the side of the bed. "You don't look happy."

"I'm fine." John knew it wasn't the answer Rodney was looking for. "It's just...it's going to be weird, you know? But...I want to be me again."

"But you'll miss it." Rodney spoke with certainty.

John frowned as he locked eyes with the other man. "Some of it," he allowed. "I'll miss...Atlantis. I'll miss being connected to her."

Rodney nodded. "Yeah...she'll miss you too."

"She'll be lonely," John whispered, as he leaned his head back against the pillows.

"I know."

That brought John's head up. "You know?" he echoed.

Rodney looked almost ashamed. He twisted his fingers into knots as he replied, "I kinda...I felt it...a little…when we brought you to the console room to save your life. I had to put your hand on the console, and I felt the warmth. I felt the way Atlantis touched you. How she hummed with happiness..." Rodney broke off and looked away.

"Oh." John wasn't sure what to say to that, but he was kind of glad Rodney had been able to feel it. He knew how much Rodney wished he had that kind of connection.

"What's it like?" Rodney asked, his tone almost sharp. "I mean...I know I can't really understand...but maybe it'll mean more to me now. I mean...having all that power. What's it like."

John sighed and watched himself twist his own fingers into knots. "It's like playing god. Or...what you would imagine it would be like to be god. There are no...no limitations to what I can do. I could smell and touch and taste and understand everything. I felt what it was like to be a raindrop, Rodney. And I melded with a star."

John heard the wonderment in his own voice as he continued. As he remembered everything. "Everything has it's own sound. It has a flavor and a texture that's so much more than you can ever imagine. And I could fly, Rodney. Without a plane. Without metal wings."

John fell silent, letting the memories wash over him and sharing them with Atlantis. He felt her humming inside him. She was happy for him. But it hurt John knowing that he would never feel that happiness again. Atlantis had given him a gift and now he was going to give it back, and to make things worse, he was going to condemn her to a lifetime of loneliness again.

Rodney reached out, his hand stalling just short of Sheppard's arm. He heaved a sigh and said softly, "You're doing the right thing, Major."

"I know." John forced a wobbly smile. "I'm not ready for this. I doubt I ever will be."

"You may be surprised," Rodney stated, then he rose from the chair. "Get some sleep or I'll call Beckett on you."

John wasn't going to argue. He was beyond tired. "Goodnight, Rodney," he said as the other man headed for the door.

Rodney paused. "Good night, Major." Then he left the room.

Without John even thinking about it, the lights dimmed and the temperature lowered just a bit. Just the way he liked it for sleeping as he drew the covers up to his shoulders and closed his eyes. He let Atlantis lull him to sleep. And he dreamed.

oOo

John wasn't ready for this. He thought he was, but he wasn't. The Asgard had arrived and they reminded him of all the _little green men_ alien stories everyone believed in, only they weren't really green and they were far more friendly than any science fiction movie would lead you to believe.

They wasted no time. They didn't even ask questions. John was in the gateroom when they entered and they moved to him as one. Three little beings whose only focus was him. He heard them talking in his head and he led them off to the console room. The moment they stepped inside they moved to the console and touched in, and John knew they were connecting to Atlantis, but he also knew that it was the same connection that he had with her. He also could feel how sad she was, and that she was reflecting his own sadness back at him.

The smallest of the three approached John. He nodded and John moved to the console and reached out to touch it. But an inch away from it he paused, unwilling, and it was Atlantis who bid him to continue. She understood.

John closed his eyes then pressed his palm to the console and in that moment everything he knew, everything he was, fell away. He didn't feel the little Asgard touch his hand. He didn't see the amber crystal that glowed until it lit up the entire room. He felt nothing but cold darkness, then there was nothing at all.

oOo

"John?"

He knew it was Elizabeth who was calling his name and he rather wished she would go away. But he forced his eyes open to see her blurry image looming over him. A few blinks and she came into focus. He remembered what he had done. Pushing himself upright, John realized he was in the infirmary.

Elizabeth was watching him, her eyes narrowed with concern. "How do you feel?"

"Human." John closed his eyes against the sting of tears. The warm hum was gone. He felt empty inside. Cold and empty and human.

"You'll need some time to adjust." Elizabeth reached out to squeeze his shoulder.

John nodded, accepting the comfort she offered. He knew it would take time. "How long was I out of it?"

Elizabeth glanced at her watch. "Almost twelve hours."

"That would explain why I have to pee." John's attempt at lightheartedness failed miserably but...hey...he tried. "Am I free to go?" He searched for Beckett.

"After Carson gives you a once over."

John sighed. "Are they gone?"

Elizabeth moved to sit on the side of the bed. "They left right after. They told me that you will remember everything in time."

"I will?" That surprised John.

"They also said I should teach you the language, that you'll learn it easily, along with everything else."

John felt confused. "I'm not sure I get what you're saying."

Elizabeth frowned then continued. "You haven't really lost anything, John. Everything you had was meant for you. When the time is right."

"Did they say when that time would be?" He was curious and he felt hopeful. He also felt scared.

"No." Elizabeth smiled softly. "But they said you would know and you would learn."

John realized he had to accept that. He made another attempt at humor, anything to push the hope back. The hope and the fear. "I'm pretty lazy you know. Might take me thousands of years to learn."

Elizabeth chuckled. "I'm a patient woman."

"Lucky for me." John meant that.

"You should rest." She patted his leg then stood up.

John let his eyes flutter closed, but he didn't sleep. It was too quiet now.

oOo

Three weeks later he finally felt _normal_ again. His skin felt like it fit him the way it was supposed too. In fact he was so back to normal that Teyla was kicking his butt again, but it was harder for her to do so now. John had remembered some things from before. He remembered what to look for and how to _feel_ out her every move. 

"You are much better, Major," Teyla said with pleasure, as he helped her to her feet this time.

"Thanks." John grinned then moved to the window seat to grab their water bottles.

Teyla joined him, accepting her bottle. "You no longer seem so sad," she commented.

John nodded. "I feel pretty good, he allowed." He didn't want to share with her why he felt happy again. The worst part of losing his power was losing his connection to Atlantis. But a few days ago John realized he hadn't lost that connection at all. That he had simply forgotten how to listen.

So one night, in his dreams, she had returned to him, slipping into his mind as softly as a lullaby. In the morning John had awakened and he had sensed her presence and he remembered what he dreamed. He knew that Atlantis had asked the Asgard to let them remain connected and they allowed it. Or so they believed. John knew the truth. He had always been connected to Atlantis and he always would be.

"Do you wish to go again?" Teyla asked.

"Sure." John let his reverie slip away. But as he picked up his sticks he heard Atlantis whisper his name.

THE END


End file.
